


The Seat of Passion

by ThanksForThat



Category: New Girl
Genre: Angst, F/M, Humor, Multi, Romance, Tension, sorta AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-02 18:53:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 34,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4070821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThanksForThat/pseuds/ThanksForThat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, a staring contest happened between Jess' huge blue eyes and Nick's junk, which also got huge. An itinerant gaze has a tremendous ripple effect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The scene might have been perfectly pleasant for a late Saturday morning in the loft. However, in this case it was fraught with that kind of ringing, panicked urgency which felt like  _everything_  right now, but which of course would probably be interpreted very differently in a year, or maybe even in a month, and quite possibly within the hour if the cards were played right by the players in question: Nick was in the shower, and he might have been taking his time because he'd skipped a few days and needed a real deep clean. But in this case, he took his time because he desperately wanted to avoid the excruciatingly awkward reality outside of the bathroom.  _What was that?_ He queried.  _What the hell did that mean?_

Meanwhile, Jess was sitting on the edge of her bed, head in her hands, possibly pondering the layout of her day, happy to have the weekend off. But for the past twenty minutes she'd been pressing the heels of her palms  _hard_ into her eye sockets, very surely in an attempt to press out her entire existence with the kaleidoscope of sparkly, mushrooming swirls that appeared behind her lids as a result.  _Boy are they pretty_!  _Why do they do that? How can my eyes make their own light? Is that a real color, or are my retinas cracking? Am I pressing too hard? Why am I doing this again…?_

_Ohhh, right._  Jess caught the wave of the last receding eye-swirl as she kept her eyes closed, but loosened the pressure and conceded to the memory of why she was trying to distract herself in the first place.  _What have I done?_ She felt utterly humiliated. And not just a little bit confused, though she was certain she wasn't the only one. Could she even fix this? No more procrastinating. She  _needed_  to fix this.

Two beats later, full of resolve but devoid of clarity, she was standing upright, smoothing her hands down her blouse and over her fluffy skirt, and striding with something like confidence towards the bathroom where she could hear the water running in that irregular way that indicates someone is messing up the stream with showerly activities. Like washing, or shaving. Or…

"Nick.", Jess stated quickly, attempting to flatten her voice. No feelings. Not yet. She stayed outside the door, and cleared her throat just as she heard Nick do the same. He replied coarsely, "…Yeah.". She took a deep breath and stepped into the steamy, steamy bathroom.

Half an hour earlier, still in the veritable morning period of 10 o'clock, the three other loft-mates had all been up and dressed, and had cleared out to their various activities. Schmidt left to shop for a new blingy watch to wear to that night's gala – the main fundraising event for the museum for which Fawn was a board member. Winston was on duty and had left for work, and Coach had appointments with three personal training clients that day – a moonlighting gig he'd been cultivating since school was almost out for the summer. The apartment door had closed for the third time, and quiet settled in.

Nick came out of his room a few moments later, and, taking advantage of what he thought was a completely empty apartment, had opted to wear nothing but a pair of silky black boxers. It should certainly be noted that these damn fancy boxers were his  _only_ clean pair of underpants. And since he didn't have to be at work until after 5pm, he'd planned on a day of laundry (an aforementioned necessity, or it would have remained off the loosely-named "to do" list), and indulging in a couple of the games he'd dvr'd the week before.

So he was undeniably caught off guard when he walked into the living room and found Jess on the couch, fully dressed, but most definitely lounging. He hadn't heard her voice at all this morning, and for that reason had confidently calculated that he was alone, and that the alone-ness would be the perpetual state of things for most of his day.

And so the derailment began. Jess' presence  _always_  obliterated the mere notion of being alone, surpassing the neutrality of being around someone while not needing to interact, and launching headlong into something akin to what he wanted to think was an imposition on his mentally crafted  _alone time._ Except that, as much as Nick  _wanted_  to be annoyed, and to be able to openly,  _aggressively_  express that annoyance, seeing her sitting there with her bare legs stretched out along the couch and looking simply, but notably gorgeous, he instead made note of a batch of very vigorous butterflies migrating into the most flutter-prone part of his stomach.

Okay, but so what. So he wasn't alone. What's the big deal?  _It's just Jess._  And yet he stopped short anyway, stood oddly frozen by the TV, now very aware of his boxers-clad self. And he was also very aware of those damn butterflies. He pictured Monarchs. And then he semi-pondered whether Jess could maybe see them, as they'd ramped up the pace of his heart and his whole body felt like he'd swallowed a box of writhing pistons. He started to sweat a little. What the hell?  _What was happening?_

He took in a sharp breath just as she opened her mouth. "Hey Nick," she said, looking right at his eyes. "Hi Jess.", he replied with forced calm. He at least felt like he had  _sounded_  cool, nonchalant, all  _whatevs_. Except that he just  _stood_  there. He mentally kicked himself in the ass with his mentally-conjured foot.  _Move, you idiot,_  he thought, his eyes glued to hers. Her brow furrowed, and she gave him a quizzical smile, tilting her head very slightly. He absolutely did not move. Not an inch. Even while he made mental note of the fact that his  _not moving_ was what was accelerating the creation of the now-palpable tension.

And then she did it. The  _thing_  that created  _all the other things_ that shifted everything else about everything else that came after that moment: She  _looked_. At him. At  _the other_ him. The _below_ part of him _._

He held his breath, panicked but riveted. His face made expressions, his mouth and eyebrows doing some stuff, but all he could register was the dry, blurry feeling at the edges of his eyes as they grew wider and wider. Was this happening? Jess' face didn't flinch, her breath was steady, and Nick couldn't blink.  _Her_  eyes, though,  _were so obviously taking it all in._ She was staring right at his crotch. Like, burning a hole through the black silk of his boxers and directly into his  _Base Chakra._ The seat of passion. Her eyes were just completely… On. It.

The thought passed through his mind:  _Did she like what she saw_?

Nick's mind was racing, but he couldn't move his legs to walk, and let's face it. He would have turned around and run like hell. He couldn't open his mouth to speak. If he'd been possessed of that skill at that moment, nothing civilized or coherent would have emerged anyway. So it was an entirely perfect addition to that storm of awkward inappropriateness when Jess did the next thing that she did, and it made Nick dizzy.

She  _licked_ her _lips._

With her eyes unabashedly moving over Nick's silken groin, her tongue came out of her mouth and arrived on her lips, and she just  _licked_ them. And holy shit. Right on cue. Nick's body went rogue. It jumped ship in magnificent betrayal. As if she was some kind of snake whisperer, and while the rest of Nick was silently screaming, his  _seat of passion_  boldly,  _defiantly_ , offered the dedicated, lusty gaze of Jessica Day an unmistakable salute.

This revelation caused Nick, whose eyes still held fast to Jess', to lift his jaw slightly, almost in challenge, while his boxers busied themselves forming an impressive triangle.  _How would he recover from this…this…mutiny?_

Jess' eyes remained locked on his now-prominent erection, and her lips glistened slightly as she made ripples in the tension by absently fluttering all ten of her fingers up to her chest. She visibly shivered at her own touch. Nick flicked his eyes briefly south, instantly resurrecting the heat in his abdomen: He noticed how her cleavage was, despite her apparent calm, quite flushed.

How could this happen so easily when they were alone? How had they kept this smoldering at bay for the past year? Was it because now they were both single? Where was Winston-the-Diffuser-of-Sexual-Tension when they needed him?! An aptly-timed text would have done the trick. Anyone?  _Help!_ The seconds slugged by, trying to make it through the thick essence of sex in the room.

Nick was glued to his spot, and his boner was pulsing hard – for her, he stupidly realized. He felt mortified. He felt enlightened. And as his mind and body found each other again, he felt incredibly aroused. Yes, he'd abruptly halted right in front of her, and somehow could not make himself move. But it was Jess who'd started them on this odd, and clearly erotic trajectory, a fact that she apparently also now realized. Suddenly she stood up, eyes wide, but now cast to the floor. Her voice reverberated through him, because everything from her at that moment would do that: "Oh God, Nick", she said.

Those three words, in that voice filled with pure animal  _want_ , were all too familiar. Yet the context threw Nick off. There was an apology in there, yes. But it was mixed with an unmistakable yearning, clear as day. He heard it. Hell, he  _felt_ it. He was certain. This wasn't just his damn imagination.

She stiffly strode past him, leaving a potent breeze filled with her scent in her wake. As he felt her pass, his skin responded to the virtual contact, and rippled into glorious, sensational goose bumps. It set him free. He waited until he heard the slam of her bedroom door, and made a beeline for the bathroom, and for the safe haven of the shower.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jess and Nick have the same goal, with differing approaches. Here comes the M. Hope you like it!

Chapter 2

 

The bathroom was steamy as she stepped inside, and the change in atmosphere to the thick, thrumming humidity from the sterile quiet of her room was somehow fitting, somehow comforting.

Jess breathed in the heavy air, and then breathed it back out, alerting Nick that she'd entered.

"Hey Nick, look. I'm really sorry. That was really weird."

"Ya think, Jess?" Nick replied immediately from the shower. "I am truly at a loss."

Jess smiled to herself, relief that what had felt so, so intense moments ago had transmuted successfully into the realm of the absurd. They'd laugh at this soon. Her heart fluttered a little at the notion that she and Nick seemed to be muddling their way through it, returning to their banter, diffusing the discomfort. She was as caught off guard by her lusty gaze as he had been, and she was entirely lost in this fascinating insight when she half-heard the shower curtain rustling. Her eyes widened as the fabric became taut, except for a single point, making a sideways pyramid as it poked out.

"Pssst. You want another eyeful?" Nick teased, as she saw his finger pushing out, recreating the tenting that had recently taken place in his boxers. They were joking about this already?

"Seriously, Nick?!" Jess laughed and swatted at his curtain-covered hand, then returned to the sinks, where she rested against the cold porcelain, crossing her ankles and folding her hands together in her lap. She was preparing for some more banter.  _Good! This is good,_  she thought. But then she jumped, turning suddenly when she saw Nick's face appear from behind the curtain, his eyes meeting hers for the first time since they'd abruptly parted ways in the living room. Rivulets of water ran down his sideburns and along his jawline, and Jess noticed the glint in his eyes, while the rest of his face, despite his earlier teasing, looked quite serious. The easy smile that arose when she met his eyes dwindled under the determined burn of his gaze. Jess swallowed hard at the shift in mood, keeping her eyes from wandering as she waited for him to say something.

"It's not too soon, is it, Jess?" he asked, his voice filled with feigned concern, and something else she couldn't identify. She opened her mouth to answer him, wanting to laugh again, and declare that  _Hell, yes! It is way too soon!,_ but she closed it quickly as she watched his eyes break away from hers, and travel slowly to her mouth, and then even more slowly farther down, taking their time to trace along the length of her neck, along her collar bone to her chest. She watched in disbelief as his gaze landed quite intentionally on her breasts. His lips parted. Was he…? Was he  _revenge_ ogling her?!

She scowled, watching him carefully, unsure of whether this scenario was really mapping out the way it appeared to be, and whether she would do something to stop it. A literal  _tit_ -for-tat –he was taking a page from her book! An apology wasn't enough the first time this happened, when she'd caught him dancing to reggae in the glorious nude so many years ago. So was he trying to make things less weird by getting even, by returning the gesture, as she had once attempted?

Moments ago she had felt horrible, thinking she'd caused him to freeze in place with the  _looking_ that she couldn't seem to control. She didn't mean to humiliate him, or catch him in a display of vulnerability. But instead of addressing it directly, shaking it off and moving on, as she'd intended by coming in to the bathroom to apologize, here he was, opting instead to contribute to – no, to  _encourage_  the magnetic pull that seemed to be overtaking the both of them, one drawn-out and overly sensual gaze at a time.

Of course they'd each, on many occasions, wondered what was left between them. But more often than not, neither of them had ever been able to identify anything that was actually  _missing_ , except perhaps faith and maturity. They both knew they possessed a deep, rare, and intense connection, something that electrified their attraction, yet ran deeper than sexual chemistry alone, and deeper even than the unshakable affection they'd developed for each other. There were sparks, and there were flames, and then there was the smoldering blaze they'd both tried to push aside for the past year. It rose up again quite easily whenever they weren't very careful to keep it subdued, masked sometimes as conflict and heated exchange. And they  _had_  been very careful. Vigilant, even. Their other relationships had helped to distract them, along with their shared tendency toward flat-out denial. But now here they were, somehow completely unguarded. Again.

Jess could feel her lungs expanding and contracting as her knees quivered and she put her hand flat on the wall next to the shower, right next to Nick's face, which she continued to study as the moments moved like honey. His eyes took in her chest, her cleavage, grazing over her nipples. The sheen of steam glistened on the skin of her upper boobs, and she watched as his eyes lingered there, the recollection of their championship in Nick's mind igniting a twirling feeling in that celestial space in her pelvis. Yes. She liked this. She was not going to stop it at all. If she was capable of sporting a boner right now, she was sure history would be repeating itself rather prominently between her legs.

Nick blinked slowly and Jess felt her body falling forward with the weight of her racing heart, moving even closer to where Nick's naked body stood dripping wet, mere inches away. She suddenly became aware that only those few inches and the flimsy fabric of the shower curtain separated them. The yearning in her abdomen deepened at the thought while his eyes continued their penetrating assault, and he cleared his throat.

At that moment, Jess caught the flash of his tongue sneaking out to smooth over his bottom lip, followed by his upper teeth dragging over it before he grinned broadly and shot his gaze back up to where Jess stood, breathlessly watching him, as he purposefully repeated her own ill-timed gesture. He wanted to make sure she saw him do it. She was incredulous at his cockiness, but she just stood there, stuck in place as he had been, her breathing now jagged and shallow. She'd come in there to make things less weird, to try and reverse the tension that instead had escalated exponentially since she walked in. It seemed that Nick couldn't help himself – had taken her cue and meant to pay homage to the persistence of their attraction. But what would happen if they acted on it again? Jess' mind immediately went there, her usual admonitions loosened by the days' events, her rationale growing weak and dizzy from the steaming shower and the bathroom's hot, sultry air.

She needn't have wondered about any of it for a moment longer, though, as Nick's wet hand shot out from behind the curtain and wrapped around the slim wrist that held Jess upright. In response she didn't pull away, but gulped in a lungful of air as her other hand streaked to her forehead, pushing aside her bangs and forcing her eyes closed as her palm ran down her flushed cheek and to the back of her neck. She relished his touch, surprised at how easily she gave in now that he'd made contact. Still unable to meet his eyes, she focused on how the heat from his fingers penetrated her skin, his palm holding tightly to her wrist, electrifying her whole body where they connected. Water ran in streams like envoys for his touch, traveling from his hand in tiny, sensual rivers, down her forearm and around her elbow, finding their way to the hollow under her arm, and down the side of her breast. Despite the heat, she shivered and breathed in quickly, and then she could no longer stop herself from looking hard at Nick.

His jaw was set, his gaze locked on her eyes, wholly determined, and despite his apparent calm, she could feel his pulse pounding. He looked back at where he held her wrist, and then looked again into her eyes, and, nodding almost imperceptibly, slowly but firmly began to pull her hand from where it lay against the bathroom wall, urging her to come closer. She was captivated.

As his other hand pushed the curtain aside, revealing his entire, wet body, he watched her face for her reaction. It was clear that he was tending exquisitely to this moment as he placed his free palm firmly on her waist. He was leaving his mark, his wet palm squeezing the flesh at the top of her hip. There was no mistaking that nothing had changed in Nick's body over the past fifteen minutes, and he waited for Jess to register his arousal as she looked down again, needing her to come even remotely close to comprehending the depths of his desire for her. She watched him grow even harder before she looked back up to his face. She was swept up in the storm that filled his eyes, desire growing rapidly in her center before overflowing into her whole body. She gasped as she felt him pull her, god, finally, to step into the shower stall where the hot spray inundated her body, her sheer blouse and skirt clinging to her back and breasts and thighs. The sensations, at last, brought some relief, some of the contact her body was screaming for. But it wasn't enough, and she grabbed Nick's shoulder as he deftly maneuvered her body to land against the tiled wall, still holding tight to her wrist, his other hand reaching behind her body to span her back as he breathed hotly in her ear, pushing himself hard against her. "It's not enough to just look, Jess." He leaned into her ear and delicately pulled her lobe between his teeth. "I want you…and I want you to  _feel_ how hard you've made me." She was dying. His face was so close to hers, they were both drenched, and he pulled back to tease her lips with his mouth, letting her feel his breath on her cheek, her jaw, hot against her neck.

But he didn't allow his lips to touch her. Not yet. He was driving her crazy. He  _wanted_  to drive her crazy. He wanted her to feel the torment, to understand how much her staring at his cock made him want her, how much her eyes on his body reignited everything he'd tried to suppress for the past year. He wanted her so badly– not just to feel her body, or to be inside of her, or to push himself in and out of her again and again. Not just to watch her completely unravel, hear his name come through her whole body. He was desperate to consume all of her, and then he would take such satisfaction in filling her back up with the best of everything he could muster, all of everything he could possibly give her. He was desperate for another chance to make her happy.

Jess could feel all of it. She shuddered with him, with the growing pain of unreleased tension as she took her hand from his shoulder and pulled his face in. She wanted his lips on her lips, wanted to taste him, and she reached her fingers around his neck, gently clawing her fingernails through the mass of wet hair on his head. She reached up and devoured him, greedily breathing in his groans, reaching with her other hand to grab his ass and press his body harder into her center.

He reached up and put his arm against the wall to steady himself, reaching under her shirt with his other hand, pressing his palm along her ribcage and running his thumb along the weighty underside of her breast. He lamented the wrinkles in his fingers from so much water that prevented him from fully sensing her skin's silken softness. His heart ached as the full realization began to sink in of how much he'd missed her, how much he'd pushed aside his own desires for the sake of giving her what he'd thought she had wanted. He pressed his tongue at the base of her throat and sucked gently with his lips and let out a soft cry, a lump forming in his throat that made its way out, quickly giving thanks for the relief the tears brought, and that the water from the shower would conceal how deeply this was affecting him. He felt the familiar fears creeping back in. And then she spoke.

"Nick, god. Please. I just…" she trailed off, looking up into Nick's eyes which were now wide with worry, his mind struggling to sort through the onslaught of emotions. Jess' face was flushed, her lips cherry red, and her damp eyelashes matted together, making them look more lush than usual. Her eyes glowed a deep blue. There was a white-hot fire, alive and well between them, and she didn't want to hide from it anymore, she understood that now. But she didn't have any real notion of how to be both cautious and as flagrantly carnal as her highly aroused body was begging her to be.

"What, Jess? You just what?" he pleaded, his hands still roaming over her body, along her hot skin, in and out of her soaked clothing, and under and over any part of her he could reach. Her lashes fluttered, and she caught her breath at what his touch was doing to her.

"God, Nick! God, I want you so much, I just… I want you, okay?! And I don't think I realized how much... And now that I have, it's just... It's completely freaking me out."

Nick looked at her face, scanning her eyes, her brows and lips. His hands stopped roving, resting on her hips, massaging her flesh. He knew exactly what she meant, her words mirrored in his racing heart, and  _fuck,_ in his damn throbbing dick, and most deeply in his gut, where an intense, euphoric longing swirled with sheer terror. They both came to the realization that they'd just scratched the surface, that there was so much more to reconcile than just an onslaught of unmitigated flirting.

They'd crossed the line, scaled the wall they'd crafted so carefully over the past year. There was no turning back now.  _Everything_  would need to be laid out on the table if they wanted this to go any further, and  _especially_  if they wanted whatever  _this_ was, to endure.

Jess exhaled, long and slow, as Nick closed his eyes and leaned into her, wrapping his arms around her waist and stooping to press his forehead against her chest. He pulled her in tightly against his body, rolling his face so his cheek lay against her skin. She reached her arms up and pulled his head against her breasts, letting her hand wander through his hair and down his neck as the water cascaded over both of them.

Her touch electrified him and his mind was racing. Nick suddenly felt a surge of courage as they held each other, the water enveloping them in warmth, sealing the spaces between them. He couldn't squander this chance, this  _gift._ He felt sure of what he had to do, and released one of his arms from around her body. Still holding her tightly with the other, he reached back to turn off the water. He felt bold and certain. This was happening. This  _needed_ to happen. He looked into her eyes. She was waiting for him to respond. "Get ready", he said. "We're doing this."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have a plan! Critiques welcome. Thank you for reading!

Chapter 3

For the second time in the span of sixty minutes, Jess found herself physically alone, yet filled with the echo of Nick. He'd made his declaration – they had been on the precipice of doing "this", whatever the hell that meant. And he was  _so_ resolute. His certainty turned her on so much, which was nothing new. And she had braced herself, pushing aside her panic, ready to submit to whatever "this" was about to become, her body all  _yeah, yeah, yeah, just get all up in me, Nick!_

And then he'd just left. She had been  _so fucking ready._ But his hands had abandoned their mind-scrambling exploration of her body, despite her readiness, and then he had stepped out of the shower like,  _ho hum, shower's over, see ya later._  Jess was dumbfounded, but had managed to regain her bearings after a few pulses and called his name from behind the curtain, hoping her shaky breathing wouldn't sound as desperate for him to return as she felt. But Nick hadn't responded, and the blood rushing in her ears had drowned out the sound of his steps as he walked quickly away.

So there she now stood in the shower stall, dripping wet, heart pounding, trying to catch her breath a bit. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head a few times. Her mind was in disarray, attempting to explain the hasty interruption of what seemed like a runaway train headed straight for incredibly hot shower sex with her roommate slash friend slash ex-boyfriend.  _How reckless!_ She thought, and that thought gave her a chill. And the chill in turn catapulted her back to a disappointingly less sexy reality.

She began to remove her clothing, feeling comforted by having a task to complete, even while residual waves of desire coursed through her body. For a few seconds, she traced her fingers along her skin where Nick's had been moments before, trying to recapture the delicious burning in her solar plexus, to recreate the electricity that had pooled in her center. It was no use. The burning didn't return. But the urge to find Nick,  _right now_ sharpened itself in her mind.

Placing her blouse, skirt, bra and panties in a sodden mound on the shower floor, Jess regarded the pile. The notion that she had come in to apologize to him now seemed completely ridiculous in light of how things had actually played out. She forced herself to relax her shoulders and breath deeply as she rubbed her face with her hands. Reaching for her towel, she wrapped herself in it, and took another look at the heap of her clothing before she stepped out of the stall and onto the sopping wet floor. The puddles had been left by Nick and were the result of his mysterious rush to leave, and as her feet waded through them, even more so than when Nick's eyes were caressing her breasts, Jess suddenly felt vulnerable, exposed.

He'd given her an unmistakable directive.  _Get ready. We're doing this._ His voice and those words replayed in her mind, as she looked at her face in the mirror. Her cheeks were still flushed, her eyes a deep blue, her lips crimson. She stretched her face, opening everything wide. Repercussions be damned, she was way too turned on to want to think about unsexy consequences. She was on a mission, with one end goal: to get horizontal and naked with Nick. Fully determined, she turned on her heel and hurried through the open door of the bathroom.

Her pace slowed as she neared their rooms. She expected to hear something, sounds of life, perhaps some rustling while Nick got situated, or possibly dressed, although she really, really hoped he wasn't putting on his clothes right now. A wave of disappointment washed over her, along with confusion as she was met with a deafening silence. Did she screw everything up with her confession of feeling desirous, yet uncertain?

The truth was, she had tried  _very_ hard not to think about sex or anything like that with Nick. She'd moved on a few times, most notably with Ryan, with his sexy accent and his handsome face, and all that damn ambition. She really had loved him. But somehow she could never envision a future with him, had balked at the idea of moving in with him. In addition to being terrified of taking that next step with someone after Spencer had betrayed her while they were cohabitating, she also knew it would mean leaving the loft. The loft felt safe, allowed her to enjoy the company of others while remaining independent. The loft also singularly harbored something extremely essential to Jess' well-being, and that was her proximity to Nick Miller. The epiphany shocked her, maybe even laughed at her a little bit. But there it was. She felt ready to surrender to it.  _But where the hell was Nick?_

Jess stood in her towel, occupying the hallway. She listened hard again, took a few steps, and then raised her fist to knock on Nick's door, which she noticed was left slightly ajar. She rapped a few times, and then pressed her face into the opening and looked inside, pushing on the door until she was able to confirm that Nick was not in her sight line. "Hello?" she said, pushing the door wide and stepping fully into his room, noticing the puddles that had made it onto his floor, giving some life to the space, along with a map of where he'd just recently stood.  _Where is he?_ Jess thought, scanning his space, taking it all in. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, feeling defeated.

And then it hit her.  _My room. He's waiting for me in my room._ And the image of a smiling, hooded-eyed, clothes-free Nick, waiting to finish what they'd begun, stretching between the sheets of her bed, filled her back up, and suddenly gave wings to her feet. She knew he'd be there, and he would be as excited as she was now allowing herself to be, ready to relieve all of that damn hot tension and pry open space and time again, and make her forget her own name the way he used to do so often when they were together. Once again, her mind filled up with pure, lust-filled anticipation, and she half-bounced, half-floated across the hall where she threw open her door, sexily dropping her towel to the floor in a grand display, before the sight of her empty bed forced the breath from her lungs like a punch to the guts.

The disappointment was overwhelming. It was too much. She screamed.  _AAARRRGGHHHHHH!_ And just then, mixed with the sound waves of her own angst-filled shrieking, she heard the chime of her cell phone. A text. She picked it up and the image of Nick's face filled the space her mind had readied for it, and it made her feel relieved and excited that it was Nick, and angry and irritated and sad that it was just Nick in pixels.

For the first time since she found herself unable to tear her eyes from his silk boxers in the living room, Jess suddenly came to a clear comprehension of the depth and complexity of her feelings for Nick Miller. Filled with this revelation, she looked at the words on her screen. Winston would be proud, and maybe a little jealous, because suddenly all of the pieces clicked gloriously into place.

"I need you…", Nick's message said. Her heart leapt. She watched as the three dots appeared at the bottom of the screen, showing there was more typing in progress. Her breath caught in her throat, and she covered her mouth with her hand, and then she heard a door slam, and a frenzied voice, "Jess? Jess! Are you here?!". She wanted it to be Nick so badly. But it was unmistakably Schmidt. Returned from his watch-hunt.

Jess hastily grabbed her robe and put it on, tying the front closed. She walked into the hallway, led by her buzzing brain and still clutching her phone. She looked at Schmidt, and he wrinkled his face at her, mirroring her own expression.

"What's going on, Jess? Why are you making that face? And what did you do to Nick?", he half-yelled, pointing at her accusingly, and eyeing her robe. The  _catnip_ robe.

"What did  _I_ do? To  _Nick?_ What do you mean? Where is he?", Jess asked, her voice shaking. She felt so confused, and looked again at her phone, and stared again at those words, and her heart did another flip, and then she looked back up at Schmidt who was watching her, clearly amused.

"Ugh, okay. I don't really want to know what is going on with you two. Being around you both lately has been like sitting around with a couple of climate-change deniers. No, you can't really see it yet. But it's there. It's  _happening_! So accept it, embrace it, and take action, dammit!"

Jess' jaw dropped open. "Huh?", she whispered. "What… what do you mean, Schmidt?", and her voice grew louder. "What does that even mean?!"

"Oh, man. I would so relish the opportunity to delve into your sex-deprived psyche, Jess. Boy, would I give you some clearly needed, and completely, one-hundred-percent  _accurate_  advice. But I don't really have time right now. I have a gala to attend. And I need to elevate my moisturizing regimen, and that will take at least one whole extra hour. But, here. Nick told me to give this to you."

Schmidt reached into the pocket of his jacket just as Jess felt the vibration of her phone indicating another incoming text. The confused question passed through her mind:  _Schmidt saw Nick?_  She realized that somehow Nick  _had_ parted space and time. Her leering at his boner felt like a lifetime ago. But it had been maybe an hour. The recollection of all that had transpired caused her to shiver, the longing she had felt determined to settle back in.

And then the flash of Schmidt's hand rising up, holding something out for her to take, forced her to tear her mind from replaying the days' events, and she wrenched her eyes from her phone, before she could fully read what the new text message said. Her fingers reached up and her palm opened to receive the contents of what Schmidt was holding. She caught a flash of a familiar lime green, crumpled up and weightless as it landed in her hand. She looked closer. It was a paper bracelet. She knew immediately that it was the one Nick had brought back for her from Mexico, the memento from their ill-fated visit to the beachside resort after they'd declared their commitment to exploring something real with one another. To both being  _all in._

Jess had kept it in her bedside table since she and Nick had broken up.  _When had he taken it? How had he known she'd had it all along? And when the hell did he give it to Schmidt?_ Her heart was thrashing and her mind was racing as she folded her fingers carefully around the bracelet, filled with questions, but finding she was only able to nod her thanks to Schmidt as she watched him disappear into his room.

She held her breath as she looked down again at her phone, her eyes growing glassy as she confirmed that this latest text was also from Nick. There they were – the two texts, the second one deliberately delayed, taking its time to show up to allow the meaning of the first to sink in. Together, Jess realized, their meaning shifted, their significance elevated. Together, their implications were unmistakable.

"I need you…" the first had said. And the second followed. "…to trust me.".


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We come to understand some of the mechanisms under which Nick Miller is operating. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 4

Jess sat on her bed, holding the green paper bracelet in her hand, running her fingers over the black, slightly faded lettering, and a flash of memory made her stomach flutter, brought a flush to her cheeks. She remembered now when Nick had discovered the bracelet where it had been secreted away in her drawer, back when they were profoundly, intensely in love. The recollection created a rich and unrestrained connection between that night, well over a year ago, and this moment right now, and she could feel it growing stronger, stretching out extravagantly into the future. As frustrated as she'd been by having to further delay a long-overdue reunion with Nick, she  _would_  concede that his disappearance created room for deeper contemplation about what had happened, and to reflect on what her feelings for him actually meant.

Jess considered this point a little more. Maybe that's why Nick had disappeared. She kind of loved the thought that he was taking control over his own impulsive tendencies in favor of a more measured approach to recapturing her interest. And she swallowed hard as she realized her interest had  _definitely_  been captured. Yep, he'd nailed it. Now she  _needed_  to know what he was thinking, what he was doing.

She thought about their characteristic impetuousness, nudged by drunkenness in their beginning, sullied by brutal hangovers in their ending. She laughed to herself at the thought of them sitting down together later today, maybe at some outdoor café, finally getting up the nerve to address everything head on –  _with words –_ andthen the vision halted as she wondered how the hell she'd make it though a conversation with Nick Miller without leaping across the sunny bistro table and attacking him -  _sexually_.

She felt grateful for the chance to settle into  _all_  of her feelings, not just the ones involving  _Little Jess,_ and that familiar, delightful energy began to assemble again below her ribcage, rippling outwards toward her back and up her spine. She forced a deep breath to shake it off and stood up to get dressed, holding the green bracelet in front of her. As she formulated her next move, she knew she needed to talk to Cece ASAP. How was she going to explain what had happened? Her heart began to beat faster as she gathered together the five fingers on her left hand, sliding the green paper bracelet over them and onto her wrist. And then she picked up her phone.

Nick's hair was still wet. He ran his fingers through it and shuddered. Sitting in the back office of the bar, door shut tight, he looked around at the mess he'd made while trying to take stock of what he had managed to grab, and continued to assess his ability to do the thing he'd determined he  _absolutely needed_ to do. He had the sense that his two deliberately timed texts had had the intended impact, but even still, he couldn't help but look back and forth between his hastily assembled belongings and his phone. He still felt nervous, wondering what – or  _if –_ he'd hear from Jess after his rapid departure. They  _were_ doing this. He had meant that. And if there was one thing he'd learned about himself over the past few years, it was that he truly  _could_  do whatever he  _wanted_  to do. There just weren't that many things that he  _actually_  wantedto do. Most of the stuff out there that he'd ever even considered doing just wasn't that interesting. He honestly rarely gave a damn.

But now he understood things a little differently. He felt reborn after that shower – that damn rite of manhood, that sexual baptism. Now he had all this brand-new perspective, and hell yeah, he'd cried like a little baby. For fuck's sake,  _she let him_  just  _pull her into the shower,_ just like that. He still couldn't quite believe it hadn't all been a dream, a breathtaking dream in which Jessica Day – forever  _his_ Jess – shot the arrows of her eyes at the bulls eye of his crotch, and then before he'd fully processed that part of things, the next part was already happening. It was magnificent. And it involved her body sliding under his hands, against his thighs and chest, and she'd pulled her arms around him, had grabbed his ass, had pressed against him like  _that,_ the way he'd been wanting her to for well over a full year, and hell, the way he'd wanted her to for a full four years, if he was really being honest about it.

Now Nick finally understood that where Jess was concerned,  _everything_  mattered. He'd had his damn  _Satori_ moment, no thanks to Tran this time, but his awakening was still quite simple: Jess inspired him to care about all sorts of things that had never even showed up on his radar before. At the core of what mattered most to him was that Jess was happy. And for some damn unbelievable reason,  _he_ had made her happy. He felt this astonishing truth sidling back up to him, reinstating Jess as his primary source of inspiration, his sole motivating force. And thus, somewhere between resolving to do a month's worth of laundry over the course of a Saturday afternoon, and doing the craziest thing ever of pulling a fully-clothed Jess into the shower with him, he had come  _extremely, terrifyingly_ close to possibly screwing up the only thing he'd ever wanted to be good at. He looked his worst fear right in the face, and had found the strength to admit that she was all he'd ever wanted.

It was that same damn strength that had made him  _cease all lovemaking._ It had hit him like a ton of bricks. In order to avoid screwing things up, Nick suddenly understood he would have to  _plan ahead._ He knew making plans was a foreign concept, but he figured after all these epiphanies, he would just pick it up, just like those people who had sustained a concussion and could suddenly speak Welsh, and the lost Germanic language of Fingalian. Because once Jess had given voice to her reticence, he couldn't simply bow to the whims of his penis and proceed with its  _of-the-moment_  plot to have sex with her. He actually felt proud to have been part of what was probably the most untarnished post-breakup relationship of ex-lover roommates who lived across the hall from each other in the history of all ex-lover roommates who lived across the hall from each other.

So he'd fled. Nick knew it might have appeared as his typical, cowardly move. But having repeatedly reviewed and rehashed everything about their relationship, and especially the month leading up to their ultimate demise, Nick had concluded that their shortcomings were due to lack of planning. He blamed himself. He'd always resisted making plans, and it was the one thing she'd wanted them to begin to do - together. He realized that all they'd ever done was act on impulse, but a part of him was very grateful for that. With more forethought, they might have just skirted around and around their attraction forever, and Nick would never have had the innermost parts of him awakened to the glorious reality that was Life With Jess.

Nick had had to forsake what he presumed would be an immediately and immensely gratifying dalliance in order to access the truth of his bigger vision – that he wanted Jess, and he wanted  _all_ of her, not just the sex-in-the-shower part of her, or the impulsive hookup part of her, but all of those things as they pertained to his full commitment to her, and to doing whatever it would take to make her happy. As his certainty grew, he made a mental note that, on account of all this  _living_ he was doing, he should probably try writing some poetry later – maybe call it, "Ode to the Way Jess Looked at My Cock Earlier", or something like that.

He had left the shower as quickly as he could, propelled by his mission to restore the vision of himself in Jess' mind as favorably as possible. He streaked into his room and used his bed sheet to do a subpar job of patting himself down before hastily pulling on a t-shirt and jeans. He tossed a few other items of clothing and some  _life essentials_  into a plastic shopping bag. He didn't want to tell Jess what he was up to before he'd had a chance to understand it himself, but he knew he had to let her know he was serious about this, and about her, and so he ran into her room on his way out. He thought of writing her a note, but his eyes landed immediately on the drawer of her bedside table and it gave him a potent flashback.

" _Hey Nick. Are you awake?" Jess whispered, rolling toward him onto her right shoulder, and sliding her left leg up to settle between his thighs. She reached her hand under his t-shirt to stroke the skin on his stomach, moving it slowly over his chest, before she wrapped her arm all the way around his torso and pulled him against her body. She leaned in and breathed against his neck, grazed his jaw and then his earlobe with her teeth and tongue. It was 3 am on a Saturday morning in mid February, 2014. Nick, newly conscious, held her left arm with his right hand and didn't hesitate to pull her on top of him._

" _I am now, honey.", he said, his voice sleepy. But his lower half wasn't even remotely sleepy. "Is there something I can help you with?" he asked, placing her hand on the pillow above his right shoulder. He slid both of his hands down her back, gliding them expertly over her hips until he reached the elastic of her panties. Sneaking his fingers inside them, he savored the slow acquisition of each delicious inch of her ass as it filled the palms of his hands._

_She had been at the bar with him until he'd finished work, helping him close up, and enjoying the night together. They'd collectively had several beers and a hearty amount of pink wine at the bar, and had shared another few drinks upon arriving home, consequently falling asleep in her room soon after, barely undressing before cuddling under her blankets and passing out._

_Now she sat, fully astride him, and pressed her knees into the bed, making space to reach between them. She pushed down his boxers, and he relinquished his enjoyment of her ass long enough to help her take them all the way off. She held his hard cock in her hand for a moment before she brought it up against his stomach, lowering herself down so she could grind against it and along it, loving his heat and the sounds she caused him to make. She felt her wetness growing exponentially with the knowledge that all he wanted to do was to remove the final barrier of her panties so he could push himself deep inside her._

_They were both smiling into the dark with eyes closed, and moving languidly together when she leaned down and sucked on his collarbone. She knew she'd get exactly what she wanted when she heard his gravelly voice choke out, "God, you are just. So fucking incredible." And she smiled her 1,000-watt smile looking right into his eyes in the dimly lit room, before she climbed off to his other side, and said, "I want you all the way inside me, Nick." and he just barely had the presence of mind to nod and lean over to her bedside table, his heart full of her and every atom of his body wanting nothing more than to be as close to her as possible as he pulled open the drawer and fumbled inside for a condom. His fingers felt around and made note of a papery strip somewhere in the way, but found the condom at the same time and just pulled everything out all at once._

_He looked for a second at it, scowling, and tried to make sense of the square and circle he'd just grabbed, noting now that the circle was a green paper bracelet that looped around his fingers as they held the plastic wrapper of the unopened condom. "What is that, Jess?" he asked, blinking, but then remembered precisely what it was just as the words left his lips. He hadn't seen it for months, and had forgotten about his own sweet gesture as they'd stood at the door of the loft before embarking on the first weeks of their relationship._

" _Oh, that?" Jess asked, flicking her eyes over the paper and smiling again as she took it gently from Nick's hand and tenderly put it back into her drawer. She looked at him. "It's a good omen, is what that is."_

" _A good omen, huh?" Nick asked, feeling suddenly giddy that she had kept his simple but heartfelt token. He made haste to open the condom wrapper, nimbly rolling the condom down the length of his shaft. The sex - that was the easy part. It had always felt so hot and easy between them. But it was all the other stuff that posed challenges. The emotions. The insecurities. So this seemingly insignificant piece of paper hidden in Jess' drawer was actually an enormous revelation. Nick felt thrilled and in love. He felt existentially validated._

" _It is_ definitely _a good omen", Jess responded as she resumed straddling Nick, and leaned down to whisper in his ear. "It is a Mexican talisman signifying how you want to be…" she sucked on his earlobe "All..." and then ran her lips and tongue in delicate kisses – " In." – down his neck before she grabbed him and placed his cock at her center, teasing them both for a few titillating seconds before she lowered herself onto him, whimpering as he grabbed her ass. He let out a low, ethereal groan._

" _All in, Nick", she breathed hotly into his ear. "That is precisely what I wanted then." She began to rotate her hips in slow, grinding circles as they adjusted to each other. "And it's precisely what I want right now. You. All in. Me." Nick thought his heart would explode, knew the way his chest ached for this amazing, sexy, beautiful woman was like nothing he had ever felt, understood the weight of that feeling as he moved inside of her with wild, rambling reverence._

"Nick!?" he heard Jess' voice, snapping him back to reality, and he reluctantly let go of the memory that was basically a waking wet dream, so. He felt a little sad as it dissipated, but remembered his renewed hope, and he moved swiftly towards her bedside table. He heard her call his name again, felt himself wanting so badly to return to her, but instead he opened the drawer and looked inside, thanking all the gods, even the water-breathing fishy gods, when he found the green bracelet still tucked in back. He took it out of her drawer with the idea that maybe he'd leave it on her doorknob on his way out. But then he'd heard the rustle of the shower curtain – Indicating his time was running out if he wanted to escape before she cornered him and compelled him to do all the stuff he  _really_ wanted to do to her. If that happened, he knew, his plan to  _plan ahead_ would begin to unravel, and maybe this chance to do everything right would be lost forever.

He had leapt out of her room, as elegantly as Nick Miller was able to leap, grabbed his phone charger and keys, and delicately shut the door to the loft. He hadn't known where he was going, or how long he'd be gone, and it was pure good luck that he'd run into Schmidt after racing down the stairs, almost knocking him over as he was walking into the building's lobby.

"HeySchmidtOhMyGodI'mSoGladToSeeYou." Nick blurted out as he grabbed Schmidt by the shoulders and gave him a couple of mild shakes. He looked right at Schmidt who was slightly taken aback by the outburst, and continued, "No time to talk. Please, Schmidty. I need a favor, but don't ask me any questions, man. I'm already a sweaty mess." He handed Schmidt the paper bracelet. "Give this to Jess when you see her. Okay? Just give it to her, and don't be an idiot about it. You got it? She's at home in the loft. And come by the bar later if you can. I could really use your advice, buddy."

Schmidt scowled and pouted a little, but then felt the importance of his task and puffed his chest up. "Yeah, okay, Nick. I'll give your little green trash circle to Jess. But just FYI, I'm going to that museum gala with Fawn later, and I'm not sure how late I'll be schmoozing with L.A.'s most luminous. But if this thing fizzles, sure, I'll come by the bar." He shook his head and looked off into the distance with manufactured disenchantment before concluding. "Now that you mention it, I  _am_  beginning to loathe all of this vacant, vapid yakking—"

Nick interjected, "I didn't mention anyth—"

"And my friend Nick needs me, so you know what? I'm coming. I'll be there." Schmidt stated, with renewed vigor. "So check your texts, yo. Schmidty won't be a no-show."

Nick stifled a scowl, and worked hard to muster a neutral nod instead. Walking slowly backwards towards the building's exit, he held his right hand awkwardly up in a vertical salute,  _really_ not wanting to engage with Schmidt any further, but definitely wanting to show his gratitude for Schmidt's role as a go-between with Jess _._ Yes, he was definitely regretting asking Schmidt for advice, but consoled himself by calculating that he'd still have time to think this through on his own, to map out the next few days at least. A plan was coming together in his mind, and it actually felt  _good,_ and it felt  _right._ Not a drag at all. It was like, the opposite of a drag. Was that even a thing?

At any rate, Nick knew he'd have to think quickly and act quickly, and that he needed to buy some time, but he felt a flood of confidence that he was on the right track. As he had walked down the street towards Clyde's, his plastic bag slung over his shoulder, he felt buoyant. He'd pulled out his phone, and pulled up Jess' name, suddenly wanting her to feel the same momentum he was feeling, wanting her to know he was still  _with_ her, despite his absence, that he was doing  _this_  for the both of them. He thought for a minute and began to type, felt satisfied as he pressed SEND, and started typing again.

As he rounded the corner and walked into Clyde's, he saw Cece standing behind the bar, and was relieved when she barely looked up. He breezed passed her and went straight into the office where he shut the door and flopped onto the leather couch, rubbing his face to try to get his bearings. He really wanted this to go well, but he needed Cece on his side. He had waited long enough and sent a second text to Jess before he opened his bag and began to look at its contents, starting to understand what he wanted to do. So when Cece walked in fifteen minutes later, he had been lost in thought and didn't expect at all what came out of her mouth. "Okay, Nick. Tell me your plan. I want to help."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cece to the rescue! Feedback welcome and appreciated! Thank you for reading!!

Chapter 5

"Okay, okay, okay, Jess. Calm down. Start over. He was wearing sexy underpants. I got that part the first four times you described it. But tell me what  _happened_ , exactly."

Cece held her phone between her cheek and her shoulder as she pulled pint glasses out of the dishwasher, polishing each one before placing them on the shelf behind the bar. She glanced up quickly at the door to the office, through which Nick had just disappeared, only now realizing the significance of his coming to work several hours prior to when he needed to be here, not to mention that he'd arrived just moments before Jess had called. She marveled briefly that there was so much one just couldn't possibly know about another person, before she lowered her voice and turned her attention back to Jess and their conversation, engrossed by the increasingly juicy details spilling forth.

"Mm hmm. Okay, yeah, I get that—

"You're right, it  _is_ Springtime, but… mm hmm…

"Um, yeah. That's uh… that's awkward… and you… Oh. Oh, god. He what?! For real? Oh, daaaayummm! But how did you…"

Silence finally ensued on Cece's end, her hands holding a towel and a half-dry martini glass that hovered in midair as she stared straight across the bar to the far wall. Her eyes glazed over as she stopped interjecting and fully attended to the vast and colorful descriptions coming through the phone via Jess' voice. Her jaw dropped to half-mast in both awe and honor of this unexpected event. She hadn't known Nick would have it in him. She was impressed, and surprisingly kind of on board with all of it, and if she was being fully honest, she was also slightly envious.

Jess continued, snapping Cece out of her reverie, "…and he was all up in my  _chassis_ , Cece, and it was the hottest thing that has ever happened to me. And I screwed it up because I kind of started to panic, and I said that— _to him, out loud_. And then he's all "we're doing this!" and I was like, "Now you're on the trolley!" and then the next thing I know, he's all, "See ya, Jess, the bank's closed, and he's – "

"Wait, stop. What? The trolley —the bank's… what? What the hell is a  _chassis_? Can you please use non-prohibition-era descriptions, Jess? Come on back to this century, and tell me what happened."

She heard Jess pause on the other end of the phone, and take in a deep breath. Her voice was strained as she let it all out slowly, taking her time between thoughts as she identified a suitable 21st century narrative.

"He was  _touching_   _my body_  – everywhere – and it was heavenly. It was amazing. And it was getting hotter by the second, and  _then,_ he turns off the water, and he looks deep into my eyes, and he goes – and I quote – 'Get ready. We're doing this.' So of course I'm thinking, like,  _Good, Nick! Yes, let's do this! I want to! I want to do this!"_

"That's  _hot_ , Jess."

"It was  _so_ hot. But even after all that… that  _build up,_ he left. He just… he walked out of the bathroom. I mean, he also left a small lake on the floor – I don't even think he used a towel – and then it was so crazy, because I turned into, like, this really, really horny hunter, trying to track down my… my  _sex prey."_ She sighed. "But he got away… and I had to pack away my sexy assault rifle."

"Well, actually… uh, your  _what?_ " Cece started.

"…ugh, but wait!" Jess interrupted. "There's more. So I collected my wits and ran into his room, and he's not in there, so I go into my room and Nick is  _still_  nowhere, and  _then,_ I get this text from him as I'm totally freaking out. It said "I need you…" and I'm all,  _yeah, Nick, that whole 'Let's-do-this-just-kidding' thing sucked, I need you too, I need you to get back here so we can bone_ , but I didn't get the chance to text back because in the  _meantime,_ Schmidt walks in, like out of nowhere, and he's all, ' _what did you do to Nick?',_ and I'm just like, 'huh?' And then—"

"Oh, Schmidt?" Cece tried to sound disinterested, which would have worked much better if she'd just said nothing because she sure sounded interested.

"Yeah, Schmidt… He came home from shopping for a fancy watch. Maybe he ran into Nick on his way up? That's my guess. And then Schmidt, god! He's like,  _lecturing_ me about being sex-deprived,  _as if I didn't already know that I am sex-deprived_ , and I'm just like, shut up,  _shut up_ , Schmidt! But then! Then he hands me  _the green bracelet,_ Ceece. He said Nick told him to give it to me. The one from  _Mexico._ "

"Ohhh… that's so… wait. What? What green bracelet from Mexico?"

"You know – the… Oh right. I can hardly blame you for not remembering. That was right after you'd just… uh… semi-consciously decoupled with Shivrang and left each other at the altar. I guess it was kind of like a paper ID bracelet version of like, a love letter or something."

"Aww." Cece interjected.

"Yeah, it was so sweet. We had tried to sneak into this resort on the beach. I had so much sand… in my… um...  _In my lady parts._ So we convinced each other we could sneak in, but the guards were coming to check on everyone because– you know. You needed a bracelet that showed you belonged there. So Nick threatened to kill this skinny little kid on the beach if he didn't hand over his bracelet, and then he ended up in jail—"

"Seriously? He killed a kid for a paper bracelet?"

"No, no, he just _stole_  his bracelet so we could stay in Mexico, and after I rescued him from jail, he must have smuggled the bracelet back home because he gave it to me right before we went into the loft for the first time as a couple…"

"So he did kill the kid."

"What? No! He—"

"But he went to jail? For stealing paper."

"Well, no, the guards had tased him in international waters because—forget it, it doesn't matter. The crux of the biscuit is that I need to find Nick."

"Well—"

"I think he's probably freaking out too, Cece. And I just want him to come home so we can… _you know."_

"Yeah, babe. I know you want to bone Nick. And actually—"

"I  _totally do_ want to bone him. That is so,  _so_  true. But I… I actually think it's more than that."

"Woah, more than  _boning_? Wait, so does that mean you, like,  _love_  him? Do you think you love Nick, Jess?"

"Aaahh! Yes. Yeah? Oh wow. Yes? I mean, I think so? I mean, I think that's what that means…" Jess rambled on for a bit, and Cece kept her mouth shut, enjoying the auditory squirming, while the clarity continued trying to formulate itself for her friend.

Jess' voice cracked a bit before she continued. "At first it was all hormones. You know? In the shower? I was kind of watching all of that  _imploding and exploding_  from outside of my own body. Because it was  _Nick,_ so that part was surreal all by itself. But then on top of that, he was, like… I dunno. He was  _different._  It was like the first time we kissed, and he took full control, but even more so, and I just… I loved it. He…he's  _changed_ somehow, or like, grew into more of that  _in-control_ side of himself. And I just… I just really loved it…" She trailed off, and Cece seemed to know where she was going with the thought.

"Well, it has been like, almost a year and a half since you guys were together. Maybe he's grown up a bit?"

Jess nodded to herself, relieved that her best friend understood. "Yeah, maybe that was it? Because when I came back into my own body and was all like,  _hot damn_  and everything, somewhere in there I started feeling…  _more… stuff._ You know? Like, I felt, like,  _feelings._  And not just  _sex_  feelings. And I think that's why I freaked out and I that's why Nick ran away. I think Nick was feeling those feelings too. You know? I don't know. But I get the sense he's up to something."

"Hm. You do? Why's that?" Cece asked, suddenly feeling relieved she hadn't divulged that Nick was just a few yards away behind a closed door.

Jess paused briefly, thinking about the texts Nick had sent. Then she continued, "I don't have any real clue. I just know I want  _him_  to know I trust him. I want him to know I'm ready for whatever  _this_ is, but that he should take whatever time he needs. But I can't just  _tell_ himI trust him. I have to  _show_  him. You know?"

Cece took a deep breath, sensitive to the topic of trust, aware that it was something she needed to work on giving out, and maybe a little on receiving too, and felt a sting in her heart as she wished for the millionth time that that very same essential element was still intact between herself and Schmidt.

"Yeah, babe." She said quietly. "I think I do know. Listen, why don't I come over later when I'm done at the bar? We can figure it out together, okay? I'll bring some wine."

"Okay. That's a good idea." Jess felt relieved to have a plan, to distract her from whatever else was hopefully about to happen with Nick.

I'm trying to wrap up for our last week of school", Jess continued. "Just tedious admin stuff now that the kids are out for the summer, but our last day is Thursday and I really want to finish up. So I'll just be home anyway. And of course I'm half-hoping Nick comes back in the meantime. Which, if he does, I'll let you know, because then we might end up—"

"Yes, yes, I get it. Listen, hang in there and I'll text in a little while."

 

**xxxxxx**

Nick stared at Cece, gulping at the realization that this  _could_ actually be happening, and felt both grateful for, and confused by, her sudden intrusion. After she'd declared her intentions to help him, he had been too stunned to say anything at first, and he noticed in the brief silence how she looked around at the items he'd retrieved from the loft, now scattered around on the couch and coffee table: A t-shirt, a pair of boxers, some deodorant, a notepad, a phone charger and a screwdriver. He regained his bearings and moved to conceal the list he'd scribbled out on the yellow legal-sized notepad.

It was too late though. Cece had seen it and she looked questioningly at him. "'Passport'?" she asked. "'Condoms'? 'Peanuts'? Nick, the list is titled, ' _Essentials'._ "

"Uh, yeah. Yes. I need my passport." Nick stuttered, trying to sound confident. He had felt so sure when he'd written it all down. But under scrutiny, he was suddenly feeling uneasy. Despite the nerves, he took a deep breath, and figured he'd have to tell  _someone_ his plan for the first time, and maybe it would be a good idea to get someone else's opinion  _besides_ the person around whom his whole plan-in-progress revolved. He took a deep breath.

"I will tell you my plan, Cece."

She looked at him, an eyebrow raised. This would be easier than she'd thought. "Please do." She said.

"It's about Jess." Nick was testing the waters.  _How much did she know?_

"Yes, Nick. I know it's about Jess. I know what happened." Cece felt like she owed it to Jess not to meddle  _too_  much, especially since Jess had no idea Cece was meddling at all. So if Cece was going to go to bat for her friend – her  _friends_ , really—she felt it was especially important not to add layers of miscommunication. She understood all too well how being obtuse could lead to serious mistakes.

In the back of her mind, she also knew that her eagerness to help kindle this reunion might be related to her own desire for rekindling something with Schmidt. But she shook the thought away. He was with Fawn, and she needed to focus on the task at hand.

Nick took the notepad back out and looked at it again, tapping his pen on his knee before writing something new on the bottom. Then he started to explain. "Look, Cece. I know you're going to be protective, and I know I probably seem like a lost cause most of the time, but I want you to believe me when I tell you that there is  _literally_   _nothing_  that I've wanted more than to have another chance to do things right with Jess."

Cece's eyes narrowed as she took this in, in slight disbelief that she hadn't seen it coming. Usually she had good radar for this type of thing. Though to be fair, she hadn't thought too much about it lately. She was quiet and gestured for him to continue.

"I want to do things right this time. I want to make a  _plan_ for how I want things to go, and I want to follow that plan. So for the next few days, I can't  _see_  Jess. I can't be near her. I already know how we'll spend all our time, and believe me, I can't think of anything I want more right now. Seriously, I'm a little concerned that I forgot to grab condoms."

"Uh, you can always… uh… buy— but, um, if you're not with Jess – ?"

"I need to know what you're doing Thursday night, Cece." Nick said, his voice tinged with nerves.

"Nick! Seriously?" This wasn't how Cece was expecting the conversation to transpire, and she instinctively moved to put some distance between herself and Nick.

"What?" Nick asked, watching her jump, his face wrinkled in confusion. And then it relaxed again. "No, no. I am not  _propositioning_  you _,_ Cece. I want to know what you're doing on Thursday because that's Jess' last day of school."

Cece was confused. "Okay…"

"It's her last day of school," Nick began. "And between now and Thursday, I'm going to need your help to convey certain things to Jess – certain  _specially curated_ things. And they're all designed to remind Jess that what we had was… Well, it was amazing. Being with her changed my life, and I want to do everything right this time. I want her back, Cece."

Cece was flustered by Nick's uncharacteristic outpouring, and she was surprised by the extent to which she was moved to help him. "Sure, Nick. I'll do whatever I can. But… what  _kinds_   _of_   _things—?"_ Cece began, but Nick immediately interrupted.

"Tonight is the first night I'll need your help," he said, his voice growing more excited with each word. "And I will tell you everything. But what's most important is Thursday. That's the fifth day, and here's the tricky part."

Cece was intrigued. "The tricky part?" she asked, hoping the intrigue wouldn't give way to regret.

Nick took a deep breath, feeling shaky, but when he let it back out, his voice was confident. "I need you to bring Jess to Mexico."

Cece was rendered speechless, and sat staring at Nick, while the clock ticked thickly behind them. Mexico? Jess had been right. Nick  _was_  up to something. He looked at Cece now, and waited for her to respond, ideally in a favorable way. She realized then that there was no other way. If Jess trusted Nick, then Cece resolved to trust him too. She felt like it was good practice. She made up her mind to hatch a plan to bring Jess to Mexico, and looked at Nick.

"Okay, Nick. I'll bring Jess to Mexico on Thursday."

He jumped up from the couch, and took Cece's shoulders in his hands. "You will? That's fantastic, thank you! No one will regret this. Thank you so much, Cece. Seriously."

Cece smiled, and she felt good, but also slightly unsure of how she'd help Nick to pull this off. She stood up and smoothed her jeans before she moved to head back out to the bar.

"You're welcome, Nick. I need to know the rest of your plan too, but right now I'm going to get back to work. My shift ends in a little while. Let's discuss how you're going to avoid Jess for five days before I head out."

She patted Nick's shoulder before she closed the door to the office, leaving Nick once again to plot in peace. So far, things were going well. They were almost – dare he say it? Going as  _planned._ He felt elated, but was rattled from his strategizing when he heard his phone chime, and a message appeared.

It was from Jess.

"I trust you, Nick! And I AM ready! Please come home."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I try to post each Tuesday night, to quench some of the New Girl desires out there (including my own!). 
> 
> This is the last chapter till next week. The rest of the gang joins the fun!
> 
> Thank you for reading!

**Chapter 6**

Nick stood up and reached into his pocket for his phone, looking at the screen for what seemed like the thousandth time, staring at the illuminated message from Jess. Hours had passed since it first appeared, and he'd begun, partially as a distraction in the meantime, to solidify his strategy for this upcoming,  _extremely_ importantweek. Her words, hovering in that glowing bubble like some damn cartoon prophet of his ultimate nirvana, completely thrilled him. And yet he sighed deeply and sat back down, holding the phone in one palm while he rubbed his face with the other. This time, though, unlike all the endless others, he allowed himself to envision what it would be like to toss aside his resolve, discard the discipline he'd spent the entire day trying to cultivate, and just head back to the loft – back to Jess.

As he permitted his mind to wander there, this newly emerging Nick begged him to turn back. But the reverie grew stronger as he saw himself standing outside the apartment door, and felt his hand lifting to turn the doorknob. He inhaled the familiar scent in his mind as the door swung open, his feet carrying him like a weightless apparition into the loft. He imagined he wouldn't perceive her at first, but would relish the walk past the living room to her bedroom. He could feel his heart quickening as her door appeared in his mind, and he knocked on it, his breath catching when he saw her opening it more quickly than he would have expected. When his eyes finally locked with hers, he felt the fervent pull of his heart, felt the desire radiating from that placeless point in space where their eyes connected, felt the urge to capture that elusive coordinate and devour its intensity, to  _become_ that passion, to selfishly absorb everything they were creating so he could be the one to give it all back to her.

He indulged the vision, allowing himself to linger in the deepening burn as he pictured stepping toward her. Raising his hand to cup her face, he closed his eyes as the space between them vanished, felt her soft skin against his calloused hand, and the silken waves of her hair between his fingers. He savored the feel and taste of her lips, still so sharp in his mind, as his mouth brushed over hers. He could feel her pressing against him, heard the impatient rustling of the fabric-generated friction between them. His heart pounded as he sat there in the bar's office, his whole body aching for her. He heard himself cry out as he moved to take his jeans-clad erection into his hand, just before he heard a knock on the door, instantly shattering his mind's carefully crafted attempt to appease his soul. His body, though, was now rife with an unquenched tension. He had been right there with Jess, and his pelvis accordingly bore the potentially very embarrassing evidence of his all-too-vivid fantasy. It was his stomach that saved him, though. Nick's arousal dissipated as the knots arrived, immediately twisting his insides as he reasserted his conviction.

He wasn't coming home. He  _couldn't_  come home. Not yet.

"Hey Nick – it's me", Cece called through the door. "I'm heading out now. Just wanted to catch you for a minute before I go." she opened the door and stepped inside, closing it quickly behind her.

Nick cleared his throat, and tried simultaneously to clear his mind.

"Hey, Cece. You caught me – let's talk." Nick quickly glanced down at his own crotch, just to make sure. Determining his boner was no longer detectable, he began to feel the return of a  _different_ kind of excitement that came about as his scheming gained momentum. He was able to quickly shift his thinking—from self-pity and longing, to immense gratitude—and gave thanks to the ether for the interruption, knowing he had to stay focused. He was well aware that he would simply crumble in the face of those glittery, hedonistic short-term gains. He wanted those gains – he was only  _a man,_ for fuck's sake! But he wanted the longer-term benefits far more, and committing to them felt amazing. He knew that this feeling was just a taste of what was to come – but only if he succeeded in seeing it through. He was starting to understand that being  _a man_ meant more than being hormonally susceptible to the allure of beautiful women in autumnal clothing or a pink bathrobe. It was starting to mean something entirely new to him. He thought briefly of Russell, and wondered if he'd discovered his classy, classy essence.

"So tonight, Cece. I was just going to sleep here, and then – "

She interrupted him. "I'm headed to the loft for a few hours, and I'll be back here tomorrow afternoon. I can give you my keys then, and you can shower or nap or just chill out at my place for a while if you want to get out of here. Just let me know if you want me to grab anything and bring it back here tomorrow."

Nick was taken aback by her kindness, and by the level of forethought and care she seemed to be giving his plot and his self-induced fugitive state. But he also had other ideas, and he needed her to know what they were.

"That's great, Cece, thanks a lot. I will definitely take you up on that, and I'll just come back to the office to sleep, because I'm working late all week anyway. But I have something I need you to give to Jess tonight. Do you think you could leave it on her pillow? Like, right before you're about to leave the loft to head home?"

He handed her an unsealed envelope that just said, "Jess" on the outside. Cece pulled open the flap and peeked inside, figuring it would have been sealed up if she wasn't allowed to peek. There was a nicely folded piece of paper and a jump drive in there, which told her precisely nothing.

"What is this?" Cece asked impatiently, but immediately regretted her question, immediately feeling like she was venturing into something private, something slightly sacred.

Nick looked at the envelope in Cece's hands, and met her eyes again briefly before he looked down at the floor, shuffling his foot around a little.

"It's just… it's a message. From someone who is important to both of us. And I'm hoping… Well. Let's just say I'm hoping the message is loud and clear."

Cece stared at Nick, noted how  _sure_ he seemed about everything, and gave him a supportive smile. Then she carefully tucked the envelope into her purse.

"No problem, Nick. Consider it done. And now," she said, rubbing her hands together like an evil scientist and sitting down on the edge of the couch. "You need to tell me why the hell I am agreeing to smuggle Jess into Mexico." 

**xxxxxx**

It was 11pm. The bar was packed as Schmidt strode efficiently through the crowd and over to the bar where Winston occupied a stool and stared absently into his Strawberry Tequila Daiquiri.

Winston looked up and nodded at Schmidt, now busy wedging himself between some carousers until he was pressed snugly up against the bar.

"Hey, what's up, Schmidt. Back from the gala already?"

Schmidt nodded, rolling his eyes and looking sullen. "Yes, I am. I had to get out of there. Truly horrible."

Looking slightly more alert, Winston scowled as he took the bait. "Okay, what happened? Did the People's Warrior make you follow her around and do that 'Take Back America' chanting thing under your breath while she mingled again?"

"Yes. Yes, she did make me do that. But that's not the problem. I actually find off-putting political slogans to be kind of relaxing, as far as public chanting goes," Schmidt said, his face looking grim. "I will tell you about the  _actual_ problem, but first I need to order whatever it is you're drinking. It looks like the perfect antidote to what ails me."

"This, my friend, is a Strawberry Tequila Daiquiri. It is truly delicious. Let's get you one ASAP! Nick!" Winston called across the bar. "Schmidtty needs one of your strongest STDs—" he looked at Schmidt, "—I call them 'STDs'—" and looked back at Nick, "and I'll let you put another one in me too! You got that, Nick? That's two STDs for me and Schmidt!"

Schmidt shook his head, frowning in defeat, as Winston looked at him cheerfully, but he just shrugged his shoulders and leaned harder against the bar. He watched Nick for a few moments before he saw him approaching with the two frozen strawberry drinks.

"Fawn and I broke up." Schmidt said, looking back at Winston as Nick handed him the red beverage. He took a few long sips. "Yeah, that's the stuff," He conceded.

"Sorry to hear that, man. What happened?" Nick asked, setting down two bar napkins in front of them, and then automatically raising one finger at three women who had just arrived, barely even glancing at them. Winston watched Nick carefully as he hustled around, and raised his eyebrows in appreciation of his friends' natural ability to keep tabs on everything around him, while still seeming to pay focused attention on himself and Schmidt.  _Impressive,_ Winston thought.

"Well," Schmidt started, looking up at the ceiling, and then exhaling dramatically as he looked back and forth between Nick and Winston. "I realized something tonight. I realized that I don't want to be Fawn's Hilary anymore."

"Oh yeah? Uh… that's… uh… Good?" Nick trailed off, unsure of how to respond. "Well, are you okay?" He asked.

"Oh, I'm definitely relieved" Schmidt piped up immediately. "I'm extremely relieved, actually. It's completely for the best. A man like me can only be held under wraps for so long. Fawn would have just  _John Doe_ 'dme forever if I hadn't taken a stand. I'm no John Doe. I'm SCHMIDT, for heaven's sake! But she was hurt, and that's the part that got me down. Fawn is an actual human woman!"

"She's an actual human… uh… ?" Winston began, looking confused. "Well, congrats, man. I think this is a cause for celebration! To Schmidt being Schmidt instead of Hilary, and to these damn mouthwatering STDs!"

With that, they raised their glasses and gave each other a happy clink, oblivious as the people around them began looking at each other and shifting uncomfortably. Suddenly there was a lot more space against the bar, including an empty stool next to Winston. Schmidt hopped onto it and smiled.

"Thanks, guys. You're the greatest. I'm feeling better already."

"Anytime, Schmidtty", Nick said, and Winston patted Schmidt heartily on the back.

"And now that we're all feeling better," Nick continued, "I have some news myself."

"You do?" Winston asked. "What's the news? Uh, Schmidt, let me just wipe that up for ya. Your STD is kind of oozing out the top there," he said, mopping around the bottom of Schmidt's glass with the napkins.

Nick shook his head and grimaced, ignoring them as he automatically replaced the soiled napkins with crisp, clean ones, and then he relaxed. He took a deep breath, which caused both of his friends to look him in the eyes. They were both riveted by the determination they saw in his face, sensing something important was about to be revealed. They weren't disappointed.

"Schmidt. Winston. You heard it here first: I'm going to ask Jess to marry me." 

**xxxxxxx**

With midnight just a few tocks away, Cece flexed the muscles in her legs, which had been draped affectionately over Jess' as they lounged together, stretched out on opposite ends of the couch. They'd collectively consumed about 1.5 bottles of wine and were feeling good, though each harbored some nervousness, the details of which they were each unable to entirely divulge to the other.

Though Nick hadn't responded to her last text, which candidly asked him to come home, Jess was still operating under the assumption that he would return at some point soon, and she was growing more eager with each passing hour. Cece, meanwhile, knew that Nick wouldn't be returning tonight. She was energized by her triplicate obligation to stoke Jess' faith in Nick, while protecting the secrecy of his plan, and  _also_  while dissuading any of that all-too-familiar doubt from creeping in to Jess' mind.

Cece had conversed with Nick before leaving the bar to come to the loft. On her drive over, she felt increasingly inspired by what he had relayed to her, the plan he shared restoring something within her. Faith in true love? Faith in humanity? Maybe all of that, and more. And while she felt slightly guilty that she would most likely be required to keep the whole truth from her best friend, and possibly even spread  _untruths,_ she felt these potential transgressions were minor, compared to the magnanimous and catalytic implications of the bigger picture. Thus, Cece concluded that the most important component to all of this was  _trust,_ in its purest form. Cece understood that Jess needed to trust Nick, just as he had requested. Like,  _fully_ trust him. And she was apparently willing to go to great lengths to help nurture that trust.

Pressing her arms over her head as she began to rise from the couch, Cece let out an exaggerated yawn and excused herself to use the bathroom, stopping confidently by the front door to grab her purse on her way down the hall. As she receded beyond the iron curtain, Cece called over her shoulder, "Hey Jess? Can you do me a favor and get us some water? I'm parched!"

Jess groaned at the notion of moving, but agreed. "Sure thing," she mumbled. "That's a good idea." She pushed herself up off the couch, and mimicked Cece's stretch, unaware that Cece was creepily watching her from around the corner. As Jess turned her back to head into the kitchen, Cece spun on her heel and slipped into Jess' bedroom. With heart pounding, she reached into her purse and pulled out the envelope, laying it carefully on top of Jess' pillow, just as Nick had requested. She smiled at the scene briefly, letting out a satisfied sigh. For some reason, she thought to snap a picture, and then felt proud of herself at the genius idea. This – this  _plan_ – was well worthy of documentation. And when it all culminated in the glory that Cece now envisioned, that glory, of course, having been fueled by Nick's newfound exuberance, she asked herself,  _wouldn't it be great to show Jess – and Nick too, for that matter – how it had all gone down?_

_Yes, you genius,_ Cece commended herself.  _It really would be great._

Peeking out into the hall, as Jess reached into the freezer for ice cubes, Cece tiptoed the rest of the way down the hall to the bathroom, and used the toilet for real before she flushed and washed her hands. She looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror and felt happy. For a few moments, she hadn't even thought about Schmidt.

Cece walked at what she perceived to be a normal pace back towards the couch where Jess had repositioned herself, two glasses of ice water perched on the coffee table in front of her. Cece picked one up but remained standing, gulping down the whole glass in a few seconds.

She wiped her mouth. "Alright, babe. Thanks for that. I'm going to head home now. I just called a cab, and I'll come get my car tomorrow. I'm feeling a little too tipsy to drive." She tried to add a little slur to her voice for emphasis.

Jess was tipsy too, and so didn't notice the slurring at all, but simply nodded and stood up to walk her friend to the door.

Jess reached up and hugged Cece. "I'm so glad you came over. Thanks for hanging out. I'm feeling  _much_ calmer." She smiled in an attempt to hide the outright lie she just put forth, noting how she was  _the complete opposite of calm_ , and how her stomach was becoming increasingly nervous in direct correlation with each minute she believed was bringing Nick closer to home.

Cece just nodded. "I'm glad I came over too. Try and get some sleep, and I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

As they hugged goodbye, and Jess turned back into the loft, she took another deep breath to try to slow her pulse. Then she grabbed her water glass and headed down the hall to her room.

**xxx**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

 

As he stretched himself awake, Nick vaguely noted several points of stiffness and an overall ache in his body. The couch was old with worn leather, torn in some places, and lacking adequate cushioning in others, and sleeping on it for the fourth night in a row was taking its toll. He forced his eyes open, finding the few places in the small room where the morning sunlight streamed in. The concentrated brightness made him squint with an all-too-familiar discomfort. He rubbed his face and ran his fingers through his hair before sitting upright and taking stock of the current state of things.  

To begin with, he once again acknowledged that avoiding Jess by camping out at his place of work – the one other place besides the loft that he was almost certain to be found – was not the most ingenious part of his plan. The second part of that acknowledgment – that perhaps he _wanted_ Jess to find him – was not something he’d be very likely to admit. After all, he had a _plan,_ and the plan didn’t involve glitches, like Jess showing up at Clyde’s, or accidently discovering him setting up yet another surprise for her to encounter over the course of her day.  

He had asked Jess to trust him, and he needed to believe that she did, because while he certainly hadn’t left any part of his plan to chance, there was absolutely no space at all for contingencies. He had been oddly confident there wouldn’t be any. And so far, he’d been right. Today was Wednesday, and there was just one more day to go until – if all went well – he would be with Jess again.  

He loved that each element of his plan had been carefully choreographed for timing, displayed with care for maximum impression, and selected from the heart – even if what he found in there was kind of weird. He loved discovering that he knew no other way than to be completely authentic, quirks and all. He had never before pursued anything – or any _one_ – with such devotion. He found the entire undertaking to be incredibly satisfying. 

And it _had_ to be like this – where Nick interacted with Jess from a distance, remaining in control, engulfing her with thoughts of him – of _them –_ until he could create the perfect environment for them to meet in the flesh. Because if he had given in to the pleas of his body when all signs pointed to the reckoning of a sexual reunion, he knew they’d have just ended up lost. Carnally satisfied, oh hell yes. But right back where they’d left things the day they broke up as far as the rest of it was concerned. He couldn’t let himself even ponder that happening. He couldn’t face that again. His goal was to try and right as many missteps as possible, shifting Jess’ perception of their relationship in the process. He had wanted full control, partially to prove to both of them that he _could_ be in control, and partially to ensure that this plan, this separation, would be worth it in the end. It had to be. 

Again, Nick reasserted in his mind that while nothing was clearer, more right, than the way their bodies fit together, he still felt driven to rewrite everything else. With those recollections of their physical synergy refreshed, the way the wet, silken skin of her throat felt under his lips as she moaned his name, the way her fingers massaged his neck and held his shoulders when he had her pressed _hard_ against the slick tiles of the bathroom shower, frenzied and flushed, he knew he had to prove to Jess that they _did_ have otherthings in common, that they could have a future where _everything else_ was as good as the sex. 

Nick knew only too well that he was setting the bar pretty high, given their exceptional chemistry. And if everything else could come even remotely close to being that good, he’d be satisfied. He had loved the way she wanted him, how desperate she was to press herself against his body, and he’d felt that way too, wanting so badly to lose himself with her. But he needed her to want _all_ of him. He felt like this was the emotional foreplay to a much bigger discussion, a much grander future. He just had to set the tone, to create the ideal version of _them_ in her mind. Everything else, he was certain, would fall into place.

 

xxxx

  

Immediately after Nick had unveiled his ultimate plan, Schmidt and Winston just sat there, mouths agape, eyes unblinking. Schmidt was holding onto the tiny straw of his fruity frozen cocktail, like he really, really wanted to take a sip, but couldn’t bring himself to break this crazy spell Nick had cast. They had looked like a couple of CGI puppets, choreographed with the same shocked cartoon faces. A full minute passed before Nick took back the reigns. He had had to backtrack a bit. 

“Look, guys, I know it sounds crazy. But let me tell you what happened today. Then you can make the call.” 

He had shared an abridged version of the way Jess had gawked at his crotch earlier that morning, their subsequent, _extremely_ charged expedition in the shower, his fears, her reticence, and his sudden, conclusive clarity on wanting her back, for good this time. 

The guys still didn’t say anything. They took a long time to blink, to take another breath. It wasn’t getting better. Nick continued, the determination clear in his voice. 

“I’m not going to ask her to marry me _today,_ guys. I’m not an idiot. But that _is_ the end goal. Maybe it will take a year. Maybe it will take longer, that’s cool. But I know this is exactly what I want, and I think it might be what Jess wants too, and I have to act _now,_ and I have a plan, and I need your help.” 

Nick looked back and forth between them, straightening himself and pushing out his chest. “Will you please help?” 

Winston’s eyes were fixed on Nick’s face, intrigued by the shift in his tone and demeanor, by his focused and passionate dedication to this particular objective.  Nick was his oldest friend, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen him like this. Winston’s heart always got a little warm and fuzzy when he thought about Jess. _This makes sense,_ Winston thought, feeling impressed with Nick’s newfound grace and maturity – for the second time tonight.

Meanwhile, Schmidt just stared back and forth between Nick’s eyes and his neck, lingering right there at the couple of buttons unfastened at the top of his shirt. He opened and closed his mouth like he wanted to say something, and he looked slightly stunned. “I…uh…I gave her the… thing. Before. Like you asked.” Is all he managed to choke out. Schmidt was actually very impressed too, but it hadn’t quite registered fully yet, and the cocktail wasn’t helping with the transmission. Nick stared back at him for a minute, shaking his head, while Schmidt’s eyes remained kind of glazed and unfocused.

There was a brief pause, and then Nick scowled as he slapped both hands down on the bar, provoking everyone to sit up, snap out of it, and straighten their alcohol-induced slouches. “Dammit, you guys! Get it together!” Nick shouted, leaning his chest across the bar and into their space.

They gathered themselves, clearing their throats, finally taking Nick’s lead. He nodded. “This is happening.” Nick said, more quietly, but more firmly. “I said it was happening, and it’s happening.”

Schmidt looked down at his hands before smiling and nodding up at Nick. _This_ was the Nick Miller he’d always known was in there somewhere. The bygone law student, the bartender-turned-partial-bar-owner, the pursuer of dreams of increasing scope and magnitude. Schmidt could get behind this. There was an appreciation in his eyes, as he began to see that his best friend was finally living up to his potential.

Winston took a breath and nodded too, less surprised, but just as attentive. “What can we do to help?” he had finally asked.

 

xxxxxxxx

 

When she opened her eyes on Sunday morning, Jess felt a rush of disappointment, mixed with an even deeper, more powerful longing for Nick. She let herself simmer in the memory of the previous morning, the _lusciousness_ of that morning, and then last night, when Cece had left for home, and she had reluctantly headed for bed - alone.

Entering her room, she had set her water glass down on her bedside table when an envelope on her pillow caught her eye. Her name was printed on it. It called to mind the way her middle school students formed their letters. And thus, she knew it was from Nick.

Her heart fluttered as she reached over to pick it up, instinctively bringing it to her face and inhaling. She was hoping for some essence of him, a scent, _something._ She didn’t get much (and thankfully hadn’t noticed the faint lingering perfume from Cece’s purse), but she still relished this tangible artifact, and turned it over carefully in her hands. _How did this get in here?_ She wondered as she looked around, searching her room more probingly. Sure, it would have been totally creepy to discover him hiding in her room, but she didn’t care. She wanted Nick – _bad!_ She would have been thrilled to find him.

Finally she turned back to the envelope. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she pulled out a folded piece of paper and a jump drive, which she placed on her nightstand. Then she opened her laptop, and while she waited for it to boot up, she delicately unfolded the paper and read the carefully penned handwriting, still Nick’s but much neater:

_It's late and I'm running out of clever things to say  
The kind that will bring a girl like you to tears  
There's only one more glass of this _ _rosé_

_Let's throw it on the fire with our past  
And dance the night away until_

_The sun, the moon and stars_  
Don't seem as far as they did yesterday  
The sun, the moon and stars . . . . .

  _  
_

Jess smiled at the paper, her eyes moistening a little as she read it over a few times. At first, she thought about Nick and his writing – mostly about zombies, as far as she knew—and so she couldn’t quite attribute this uh… _prose_ to anything that might have come out of the mind of _her_ Nick. 

But then she considered how different he had seemed that morning, the way he had leapt into action, so self assured, so poised, and so really, really naked. He’d _brought her_ _to_ him, had put his hands all over her, had completely disregarded their past in the face of a chance to seduce her. Jess offered no resistance to the memory of the sensations flooding her mind. So much of her day had been dedicated to bringing back those feelings, to try and conjure the words he wasn’t saying as his lips had caressed her skin and his bare chest pressed against her breasts. Jess could feel the shower pouring over her again and felt his arms tightly encircling her waist, his palms roaming over her ass as his fingers pressed through the material of her skirt into her flesh, his hips hungrily pressing into her too, the images and sensations giving her goose bumps as she re-read those words. _His_ words? Her chest was flushed and her breathing became more rapid with the recollection. But something wasn’t quite right.

She felt a vague pull of recognition at what he’d written, regretfully allowing the scene in her mind to vaporize as her eyes settled on the jump drive. She picked it up and pushed it into the side of her laptop and a folder popped up. It was labeled, “The Sun, The Moon and Stars”, and it contained just a single .mp3 file. Puzzled, she clicked “play” and listened for a minute before her smile returned. She recognized the artist almost immediately, singing the same words that Nick had written out for her, the lyrics in her hand adding weight and complexity to a song that she might have otherwise considered to be fairly cheesy.

She laughed a little, turning up the volume and closing her eyes as she attempted to relax into the earnest sounds of the late ‘90s. But her eyes snapped open as the voice sang out the final line in the verse.

It was the only one Nick _hadn’t_ written down.

_It's late and I'm running out of clever things to say  
The kind that will bring a girl like you to tears  
There's only one more glass of this _ _rosé_

_Let's throw it on the fire with our past  
And dance the night away until_  

 _The sun, the moon and stars_  
Don't seem as far as they did yesterday  
The sun, the moon and stars…

_In love we are forever, always_

 

Those words and that music brought another rush of emotion as Jess thought about _that night –_ that wonderful, ethereal night that she’d pushed out of her mind along with all the others after she and Nick had broken up. She reveled in the memory for a moment, before coming to a sudden realization: Even though the whole evening was one of the most magical, enchanting nights of her life, when she boiled it all down, the primary reason for its magnificence was Nick. It really was always him.  

As the voice of one of the greatest champions of love – of _their_ love—continued to sing out, Jess had felt her chest constricting as it struck her hard: Nick had never stopped loving her. She lay on her bed, clutching the folded paper to her body, and considered the implications.

When the song ended, she texted Nick: “I love Prince.” She waited for his response. Her eyes grew heavy. She waited some more. Thoughts of Nick featured prominently in the swirling half-dreams that filled her mind as her consciousness faded. She waited and waited.

Finally exhausted, she had fallen into a deep sleep.

 

\--------- 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick means business. Jess is getting antsy.

Chapter 8

 

Cece stared at the two-page printout, fingering the creases where it had been folded into three parts, and placed it on her kitchen counter. She read it again, marveling at everything it promised. Four nights in Mexico, king bed, balcony suite, ocean views. She leaned on her elbows and allowed her head to fall into her hands, sighing quietly, and replayed their conversation from last night over again. 

_“Why are you doing this?” she had asked him as he handed her the pages with all of the confirmation information printed out. She hated herself for the way the question sounded when it came out of her mouth. So earnest. So hopeful. She knew how she wished he would answer – but she was_ not _desperate. Not for him. Not again. Not this time._

_“I want to help my friend”, he’d responded, a little too quickly, maybe? “We all know the mere concept of a_ plan _is as elusive to his mind as the Mighty Himalayan Snow Leopard is to…uh… the Himalayas. Am I right?”_

_Cece nodded. He was right. He really would do anything for his best friend. He could be so thoughtful. His heart and its intention were exactly in the right place. And he had, with this one act, potentially solved her biggest problem._

_“So, you know. Just tell her something.” He’d said simply. “Whatever you can think of that will trigger her deep-rooted instinct to helping you – her best friend. It will be a piece of cake, and you know she’ll latch on like a baby to its mother’s teat.” – Cece pressed her lips together as he continued. – “ As long as you tell her the teat is filled with pink wine and margaritas. Just kidding, tell her the teat is filled with yarn and some god-awful as-yet-unknit monstrosity of a sweater. Just kidding. Tell her you’re still hot for me, and you need to escape the city in which I currently dwell for a while.” He winked at her like a smartass, but she thought she sensed a faltering in the lightness he tried to convey._

_Cece had blinked at him, narrowing her eyes, too caught off guard by what he had just handed to her to argue with his teasing her about her feelings for him. She’s not sure she would have argued, even if she_ had _had the presence of mind. She gave him what she hoped would appear to be a half-hearted smack on his arm and he gave her a broad smile in return. Her senses were heightened due to their physical proximity, which was somehow shrinking, and his smile was too broad, which probably meant he had perceived too much heart in that smack, but he’d better not have thought_ she _thought he deserved it. She only wanted to transmit the smack. Definitely_ not _the heart_

_She snapped out of her mental whirling when Schmidt finally stood up and ran his hands down the front of his thighs, before clapping them together. “Well, I guess I should be going. Have fun in Mexico, and don’t drink the water.” He raised his eyebrows at her. “Or if you do drink the water, make sure you are carrying an extremely strong anti-bacterial prophylactic. There’s swamp-ass everywhere down there.”_

_And before she had the chance to recoil entirely, he leaned in and kissed her, up high at the edge of her ear, right below her temple. She heard him lightly sigh as the kiss left his lips. She felt his breath, and his scent made her appealingly dizzy. She registered the lingering wetness where his lips had made contact, feeling the blood rushing back into her ears. Her heart got suddenly loud. Being so close to him made her feel warm in her center, and then sudden thoughts of Fawn forced her to intervene and she snapped herself out of it._

_“Thank you, Schmidt. This is really an amazing thing you’re doing.” Cece stood up too, mostly to shift from the spot where they’d touched, and walked him to the door of her apartment, opening it quickly. Schmidt looked pleased, but a flash of something else passed over his features before he turned sharply away from her and walked through the open door._

_He turned back and looked intently at her face. “It’s nothing, really. I’m glad to be a part of anything that has a punch line of two knuckleheads falling back in love.” He looked through her and she shivered. And then he abruptly departed, practically jogging to the elevator. He pushed the button and waved back as Cece smiled and closed the door. She couldn’t have heard him as the elevator doors closed, or seen the sadness in his face as he muttered under his breath:_

_“I broke up with Fawn, Cece.”_

As the memory dissipated, she put the folded paper into her purse and checked her mental calendar. _Damn,_ she thought. _Wednesday already._ She knew she needed to make her move. She pulled out her phone and texted Jess.

 

xxxxxxx

 

The message from Cece came as Jess was sorting her papers and tidying her desk. She looked at the clock in her office: 2:00 pm. “Meet me for dinner?” it said. Jess hadn’t spoken to her best friend for a couple of days, as they’d both somehow been increasingly busy as the week progressed. Despite being inundated with thoughts of Nick, with memories of their relationship, with vivid sensations of how she felt in his arms, against his skin, Jess had tried to put Nick’s _very_ conspicuous absence out of her mind, and she’d thrown herself far more diligently than usual into wrapping up the school year. Just one more day to go, and she would be free for most of the summer. She was thankful for Cece’s invitation and the chance to catch up. 

Jess had called Cece _really_ early Sunday morning after she had found the envelope with the song from Prince, and hadn’t really noticed her friend’s practiced and overly surprised response to the update in between all the groggy yawning. 

Jess had also reported immediately back to Cece on Sunday evening. Upon returning home from seeing a movie with Rose—a film which Cece had conveniently, and rather persistently, recommended—Jess had received a text from Nick right as she was walking through the door to the loft. 

It had said, “Roof.” 

And Jess had thought, not about the perfect timing of his text, but rather of their first time sleeping together over two years ago, and his attempt the following night to fix their botched _morning after._ She had thrown down her purse and raced up to the roof, so excited that finally, _finally_ she’d get to see Nick. But when she stepped outside, she could only gasp.

Situated near Nick’s long-forgotten tomato pots, there was a single, slender chair and a small table, set elegantly with a white tablecloth. On top was a silver platter, covered with a silver dome. Next to the dome was a glass of pink wine, made even pinker by the shimmering, blood-orange light of the setting sun. The rest of the wine rested just behind it, the bottle chilling in a silver ice bucket. There was a single, lovely place setting, and a graceful vase held two red roses. She looked around for Nick, but the roof was empty. She put her hand on top of the silver dome, which radiated heat. 

As she lifted the top, her stomach growled, and she inhaled deeply.  When she saw what was underneath, she immediately recalled their frenzied, crazy-awesome sex in her Volvo, secreted away on the side of the road, moments after they’d _uncalled_ it. 

_“I’m really fighting the urge to buy you a lobster dinner.”_ Nick had said to her, his voice gravelly with post-coital awe. 

Jess had had to sit down at the table with the weight of that recollection, noticing that she was trembling and that she suddenly felt intensely hungry. The hunger was all-consuming and pervaded her entire body. She was hungry for _so much more_ than food. She texted Nick. 

_“Lobster?!”_  

And this time he’d written back immediately: 

_“I should never have fought the urge.”_  

She’d smiled out at the city lights, beginning to twinkle across the horizon as the last rays of the sun disappeared. She relaxed into the chair, noting that it was surprisingly comfortable. She looked at his message again and then shook her head in curious puzzlement. _Why so sentimental, Nick?_ She thought to herself.  But their synergy thrilled her. She picked up her phone and, knowing it was probably futile, typed, “When are you coming home?” She put the phone down this time, without waiting for him to respond. 

She chuckled to herself as she inspected the white cloth napkin, situated neatly on the porcelain plate, and arranged perfectly in the shape of a swan. As she picked it up and placed it in her lap, little happy excerpts spanning the entire timeline of her year dating Nick danced through her mind. 

She carefully smoothed the white fabric over her thighs before she picked up the fork and took a bite of the warm, buttery lobster, chewing with her full attention. It was rich, and succulent, and so, so, satisfying. 

She closed her eyes like a hedonist, loving this way Nick had gotten to her, swooning a bit with the explosions firing off in her brain and in her body. She smiled into the golden light of the waning evening, sipping wine between bites of food, savoring the sweet vapor-burn in her nostrils, the delicious tastes on her tongue, the earthy aroma of everything she was consuming as it mixed with the warm air of the evening. 

Her heart felt as full as her stomach. She was completely swept up in the sensuality of what Nick had done for her, and instead of feeling disappointed when he never texted back, she had somehow felt excited, satisfied, and hopeful.

 

xxxxxxx

  

“I’m coming, Nick. Case closed.” Schmidt sat at the bar, sulking, and Nick was worn down, finally tired of arguing. He was so close now, he could almost feel her delicious skin under his calloused hands. This was the last part, and his chest ached with worry. 

He drew in a sharp breath and slowly let it back out. He locked eyes with Schmidt. “Did you give it to Cece?” he asked. 

Schmidt kept his mouth closed, and nodded twice in response. 

“And you think it’s enough to get Jess to agree to come with her.” It was a statement – definitive in the way Nick laid it out. Yet he was clearly nervous. He blamed the nerves on this being the one part of the plan he couldn’t control, apart from how she’d respond to their meeting in person again, in what he hoped would be approximately 36 hours from now. 

“It was a good idea, Nick. I gave everything to Cece last night. She said she was going to talk to Jess today. I did it just the way you asked, AND I didn’t tell her about Fawn and I breaking up. Do you know how hard that was? Pure torment. All I’m asking is that you let me come with you.” 

Nick looked at him, his face softening. He didn’t want to admit it, but he _would_ appreciate the company on the drive. And _maybe_ he’d consider asking Schmidt for a second opinion on a few elements of the grand finale to his plan. Maybe. 

“Okay, fine. Schmidt. You can come. Are you happy? You can come.”

“Good. And, I wouldn’t call how I feel ‘happy’. I know you need me down there, so really it’s more like a deep, profound relief.” Schmidt put down his empty beer glass and smiled, despite his heckling. “Now can we move on to more important things? Like, what you’ll be wearing when you see Jess for the first time in almost a week? And what kind of champagne you’ll bring with you to watch the sunset? That’s a trick question, Nick! You’re bringing Prosecco. Everyone knows Prosecco is better for sunsets. I honestly don’t have any idea how you thought you could do something like this without me.” 

Nick shook his head and sighed audibly as he glided down the bar to attend to a couple of customers. It was just for show, though. He hadn’t felt this excited in… well, possibly _ever._ “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’d be very grateful for suggestions on what to wear.” Schmidt raised an eyebrow, clearly very pleased with Nick’s concession. “And we’re leaving as soon as I close the bar tonight, so go home and pack, okay?” 

“We’re leaving _tonight?_ ” Schmidt asked in disbelief. 

“Yes, tonight. Definitely tonight.” Nick confirmed. “I have things to prepare when we get there, and tomorrow is Thursday, and Thursday is—“ 

“I know, I know.” Schmidt said, cutting him off. “It’s Jess’ last day at work. It’s D-Day. It’s Jessica Day Day. I know, Nick. I’m on the team. And I have to admit I’m impressed with your planning skills. I seriously didn’t know you had any, and I’m delighted to learn that you do. Tonight it is.” 

As Nick expertly, foamlessly pulled two draft beers for the newcomers, Nick stared at Schmidt, silently calculating the costs versus the benefits of agreeing to let his meddlesome friend tag along on what could arguably be the most important journey of his life. But he needed the support and the backup dedication Schmidt would provide. 

Although Nick had incorporated a hotel room for Cece into his plan, Schmidt ended up offering to pay for it, which was unexpected and very appreciated. When Schmidt then opted to upgrade her simple room to a luxury suite – claiming that his intention was to provide a better means through which Cece could entice Jess to join her – Nick didn’t object, immediately realizing that Schmidt, too, had a plan. Since it seemed to be in sync with his operation as a whole, Nick felt thankful for Schmidt’s involvement, and even felt it somehow fortified the integrity of the entire scheme. 

Setting down the two pints of golden ales, Nick conjured a huge smile for his customers, and then turned it on Schmidt, eyes wide, clapping his hands together. A happy Schmidt would make everything go more smoothly, and Nick knew nothing made him happier than some bromance. “This is just great, right? Man, Schmidtty, I’m really glad you’re coming. What a great idea.” 

It was slightly forced, but it worked. Schmidt’s full-on smile grew even larger. He nodded excitedly as he backed off the bar stool and put his phone in his pocket, walking towards the exit. “Yeah, Nick! It _is_ the complete best. I’ll go home and pack! I love packing! I’m packing for you too, by the way. And I’m gonna make you look _nectar_. Okay? This is so great. Did you bring deodorant? For both armpits? I’ll even let you use my sculpting pomade. This is gonna be great, Nick. Yeah!!” 

Nick gave Schmidt a calculated scowl and shook the cocktail he was making a little more aggressively, but he couldn’t help chuckling to himself as Schmidt left the bar.

 

xxxxxxx

  

“Okay, so Saturday was Prince and Sunday was the lobster feast. Catch me up. What happened after that?” As their evening continued, Cece took a bite of her enormous salad, preparing to act surprised as Jess described the details of the last few days of Nick’s _intervention._ For a moment, she actually had forgotten what Nick had planned for Monday. She’d had to work and wasn’t able to help him out in any meaningful way, but he’d told her vaguely about it, and unbeknownst to Nick, she had continued with her own documentation side project. 

All she’d seen on Monday was the set up, sneaking in and out of the teacher’s lounge quickly, just to take a couple of pictures as Nick was leaving. With the kids released for summer, security was a non-issue, but even still, Cece wasn’t able to decipher anything from what she saw that might reveal what this one meant to either Jess or Nick. 

“Monday. Monday…” Jess trailed off, staring into the depths of the restaurant’s patio, clearly no longer present as she recalled Monday’s course of events. Cece cleared her throat. 

Jess looked at her. “Right. Monday. It was actually kind of intense. And very weird.” 

“Intense and weird? How so.” Cece took a sip of water and then finished her mojito before she gestured to the server for another. She was impressed with her own nonchalance, but this time it wasn’t overkill. Plus, she knew she would need to shift gears momentarily. She looked at Jess and waited for her to continue. 

“So Monday I had this staff meeting – you know. It was scheduled for lunchtime, and it was supposed to be an end of the year kind of half-meeting, half-party where it’s like fifteen minutes of real business and the rest of the time you’re socializing. I ordered pizza for it.” 

“Okay…” Cece nodded, a little bored, a little intrigued.

Jess went on, “So I walk into the teacher’s lounge, all caught up in my awesome, awesome clipboard, and I look up, and there’s this insanely ornate display set up on the lunch table.” 

Cece squinted. “Display? What kind of display?” 

“Well, that’s the thing. There was this _huge_ banner arched over the table, and it said ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY’!”

“Uh-huh…” Cece didn’t have to try that hard to look confused. 

“And underneath the banner was this tiered pedestal stacked with, like, a lot of rather elaborately decorated cupcakes arranged on it.” 

“Cupcakes?” Cece asked. 

Jess nodded. “Cupcakes! And a few other teachers were already in there, and they were, like, ravaging the pizzas to get to the part where it was acceptable to pig out on the cupcakes. And they’re all, _Thanks, Jess! Happy birthday? Is it your birthday? Whose birthday?!”_  

Cece sipped her drink, nodding for her to continue. 

“And I had _no_ idea, so I kind of ignored them. And then I looked closer and I see that the cupcakes have _words_ written on them. With icing.”

“What words.” Cece asked. 

“I thought they were random at first. Words like ‘ _massage’_ and ‘ _pancakes’_ and then a few phrases, like ‘ _boozy lunch’_ and ‘ _no diabetes test’_ and ‘ _champagne on the beach’_ and _‘sunset walk’_ , and ‘ _longer-lasting and awesomer sex’_ and ‘ _not bribing the kid at the cinema’_ and ‘ _surprise cupcakes in the park’.”_  

“Huh. Do you know what all of it meant?” 

Jess nodded. “I do. Of course it was Nick. It was the reference to the diabetes test that tipped me off. Who takes someone for a diabetes test on their birthday? Like, as an _activity_?” 

Cece nodded in agreement. 

“So I texted him. “ _Happy birthday, six months early?”_ and he writes back, “ _Happy birthday, 18 months late. The way your whole day should have gone under my watch.”_

Cece couldn’t help but smile. _Nice one, Nick._ She thought.

“Anyway, in my panic I just ended up telling everyone the cupcakes were for my uncle’s birthday, but that he was dead and we couldn’t talk about it, we just had to _really_ enjoy the cupcakes, and wish each other a good summer in his honor.” 

Cece just stared at her. 

“But there’s more. After lunch – and those cupcakes were _damn good,_ I might add – I returned to my office, and I see, like, a smallish box, sitting on my desk. Turns out it was a shoebox, set up on its side. The front was facing my chair, so I walked around and sat down. It looked like something the sixth graders did in the fall for their study on current events, and I realized it was a freaking _diorama_.” 

“A diorama?” Cece asked.

“Yes! You know. Those scenes you make in a shoebox. 3D. Do you know? Maybe you don’t. It was a diorama, and anyway, the scene inside this particular diorama was an L-shaped couch –nicely upholstered in an orange-brown leather, I might add. And on the couch are these two peanuts – _peanuts,_ Cece—and they have faces drawn on them, and one has a little bowtie and a scruffy beard. And the other has miniature glasses and red lips and a really cute hoop skirt.” 

Cece stopped chewing. She realized she’d missed this one. 

“And there were word bubbles – stuck on with paper and toothpicks and tape. Like a little play or a scene from a 3D graphic novel or something.”

“Um…” Cece looked confused. 

“So the boy peanut is all, ‘ _I would have had a threesome with you’,_ and the lady one has a bubble that says, ‘ _Night peanuts are awesome’.”_

Cece just continued to stare at her. 

“They were _talking_ peanuts, Ceec. It was Nick. I know it was Nick again.”

“But, _peanuts_? Can you please explain why the damn peanuts?” 

Oops. Cece had been equally perplexed when she’d seen the word _peanuts_ written on Nick’s _Essentials_ list. Here was another clue, but the peanut mystery persisted.  She was feeling oddly invested and also weirdly irritated. She had to stay measured. 

Jess looked at Cece and then covered her face with her hands. 

“Because, Cece! Ugh, this is embarrassing, but a long time ago, before we’d even kissed, I told Nick that it turned me on this one time when he made the peanuts at the bar talk to each other.” Jess’ face was still buried in her hands, and her words were muffled. She knew it sounded absurd. She was still marveling that he’d remembered that. Of course _she’d_ remembered. The dialogue between these particular peanuts was even more intriguing than the one Nick had narrated way back then. This diorama version was like a very strange, self-referential dream. 

“Plus he knows about my night peanuts, so.” Jess put her hands down to take a sip of wine and a deep breath before she went on. “And they _are_ awesome. But anyway, so I’m sitting there trying to fathom the time it took to get this diorama to look the way it did – because it actually was rather well done – and then I get a text from Nick, and he wrote – get this: _I would have. And they are.”_

“Wow.” Cece said.

“So I wrote again, ‘ _At least have a cupcake with me?’_ And then _he_ writes, ‘ _3 more days.’”_

Cece cleared her throat and wiped her mouth with her napkin. “Three more days till what?” she asked, suddenly unable to meet Jess’ eyes. She focused on pulling some mint leaves out of her mojito while Jess stayed silent for a moment. 

“Your guess is as good as mine. That’s tomorrow. I’m like, at the end of my rope. He wants me to trust him, but I can’t even see him? It’s getting a little frustrating, especially because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him.” 

Cece picked up her fork and stabbed at some kale, trying to hide her nervousness about Jess’ internal battle – her obviously dwindling enthusiasm about how things were going mixed with her desire to just _be_ with Nick already. 

Cece knew she had to act quickly, to plant the seeds and get things to where they needed to be. “So what happened yesterday?” She asked, sighing heavily and frowning at her plate. Jess registered the question, but definitely noticed the display of melancholy.

“Uh, just the valet card, and the Roth IRA statement that was addressed to Nick—Um, hey, what’s going on with _you_ these days? I’m sorry I’ve been so preoccupied with finishing at work, and this cryptic-yet-tantalizing Nick stuff. Is everything okay, Ceec? You seem kind of bummed out.”

Another big sigh. “I’m okay, I guess. What valet card?” Cece asked, strategically deflecting the question. “And did Nick open an IRA account?” 

Jess studied her friend, narrowing her eyes, feeling guilty and a little concerned. She started again, more slowly, now much more attuned to how much she was monopolizing the conversation. “It seems like he might have. Pretty impressive for Nick, right?” 

Cece raised her eyebrows and nodded. “Yes, it is definitely impressive.” Cece meant it. Nick hadn’t told her he’d done that. “And what about the valet card?”

“There was an envelope taped to the window of my car after work yesterday. There was a valet card inside – from the place where Nick and I had our first non-date, that night when Russell showed up.” 

Cece averted her eyes and let a carefully crafted flash of anxiety cross her face, then pressed Jess for more info. “Oh yes. I remember that night. Russell made you write your feelings on those cards, right?”

“Yeah. I mean, could it have gotten any more weird than telling _Russell_ my feelings about Nick? When I hadn’t even told _Nick?_ And plus just being put on the spot like that.”

“Did you ever tell each other what you wrote?” 

“We never did.” Jess said, sipping her wine. “It was so long ago now. I didn’t even think it mattered anymore.”

“I mean, does it?” Cece agreed. 

“Nick seems to think it does. The valet card in the envelope said _I want you to know what I wrote.”_

As they sipped the last of their drinks and signaled for the check, Cece thought of something. 

“So Nick wants to tell you what he wrote – but you never told me what _you_ wrote. Do you even remember?”

Jess smiled and looked down at her hands folded on the table. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Tell me! What did you write?” 

“I was really drunk, Ceec.” 

“Okay, I think I know where this is going. Will you ever learn, Jess?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Jess laughed. “Besides, I _still_ think haikus win when it comes to aesthetics in communication. Efficient _and_ beautiful. And also romantic. And you can get away with grammatical anomalies.”

She paused. 

“And, I can’t help it. They just stampede out of me. After a few drinks.” 

“Uh huh. You just did a standard five-seven-five right there, good going. So what did your drunken haiku say this time?” 

Jess cleared her throat. “Okay fine. Don’t laugh. Are you ready?” 

Cece rolled her eyes and took Jess’ hand. “Yep.” 

“It said,

_Miller is sexy,_  
Has me infatuated,  
Gets big YES from me.”

Cece laughed. “Wow, Jess. That was… pretty much in line with Nick’s Peanut Diorama. I totally agree with Russell—You two _are_ really something.”

“Hey!” Jess yelled, laughing, which goaded Cece further. 

“And you know, I _used_ to think you two were completely meant for each other.” 

Jess looked at her expectantly. “And now?” she asked. 

Cece leaned over, startling Jess by grabbing her for a tight hug. “And now I _know_ you are.” 

Jess beamed and hugged her back. As the check arrived, they sat for a bit longer while Jess enjoyed the buzz from the wine and from a reinvigorated longing for this elusive man she’d been unable to banish from her mind all week. In the meantime, Cece was planning her next move.

xxxxxxx

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jess has to make an important decision!
> 
> ***  
> A/N: We're getting there! I hope you like this next chapter. Feedback is always appreciated, and I'm very grateful to those who've left encouraging comments, especially as this is my first fanfic! Thank you so much for reading!!

Chapter 9

 

The roadway shined with the heat of the afternoon sun, as Jess glanced to her right to confirm that Cece, who had been rambling for a little while before trailing off, was now sleeping peacefully. The passenger side seat was reclined, and Cece’s slender form was curled towards the car door. Jess could see that the corner of her mouth lifted in a slight smile. Seeing her that way brought the same smile to Jess’ face. She welcomed the sensation, wanting so much for the feelings of gratitude and contentment that lingered like wallflowers at the edges of her mind to overpower the disappointment and confusion she felt since last night. As much as it had tormented her, she knew she’d made the right decision. 

As she concentrated on driving, she checked the GPS again, only slightly placated with each mile of progress, and no less eager to arrive at their destination. Traffic was light for a Thursday afternoon, but even so, they still had another couple of hours to go before they would reach the spa resort, the sparkling beaches, and what she hoped would be some much needed perspective. After the past 24 hours, she needed it. She was determined, for the sake of her best friend at the very least, to make this the best girl’s weekend known to all of humankind.

xxxxxxxxxxx

The night before, Jess and Cece had paid their check and had walked outside to say goodbye before heading back to their respective apartments. Jess had had a decent amount of wine, and still had a few loose ends to tie up at school for her last day, so wanted to try and get some decent sleep. She tried not to let herself think too hard about what else Nick might have in store for her, or when she’d finally get to see him. But it was proving to be a struggle, and as she and Cece stood outside the restaurant, she couldn’t help thinking about whether there would be another surprise waiting for her, or what the day would bring tomorrow. It was finally dark, but instead of taking cabs to their separate apartments, they decided to extend their evening and walk the twenty minutes back to Cece’s place together. Jess could take a cab home from there. 

“So Nick has really been doing a lot for you.” Cece started, after spending the first few paces in comfortable silence. 

“I know. It’s kind of crazy... to be experiencing so much of Nick without actually _seeing_ Nick.” 

Cece felt like she had to push the question, partially out of a genuine desire to know, and partially as field research for Nick– she needed to gauge the status of the operation as a whole. “So how are you feeling about him now? You felt pretty intense last Saturday.” 

Jess smiled into the dark as they walked. “I’m feeling a lot of different things, and yeah, I’d say it’s still intense. Definitely intense. But at the same time I’m also very confused about where he is and why he hasn’t come home.” 

Cece nodded, unconsciously holding her breath. 

Jess continued. “But in the meantime, it has become even more obvious to me that I have a lot of feelings _about_ Nick and some pretty powerful feelings _for_ Nick. And it’s weird, because all we had was one really hot moment, but it’s like everything bubbled to the surface because of it. I guess I’ve just been trying to figure out what it all means, and it has been difficult to accomplish that without being able to interact with Nick in person. Or even hear his voice.” 

Cece’s chest started to hurt – she thought from the anticipation of waiting for Jess’ conclusion, but really it was from lack of oxygen. But then she heard precisely what she was waiting for. 

“What’s weird is that everything I’ve been feeling has just gotten stronger. I can’t explain why. But I just keep circling back to the same question.” Jess paused.  “And, like, god. It’s so hard to even think about it, but I keep asking myself, _Why did we even break up?”_

 _YES!_ Cece popped the cork on the bottle of champagne in her mind, and could breathe freely again. _Just as Nick had planned._ Cece muttered her understanding as she stealthily pulled out her phone and typed, “Now.” Then she pressed _Send_.

“I mean, I remember _when_ it happened.” Jess went on, slowing her pace to match the rate at which she was divulging her carefully worded thoughts. “I just can’t remember exactly _why_ it happened.” 

Cece tilted her head slightly, her heart beating a bit faster with the excitement of her covert operation. “Oh yeah, me neither.” She lied, keeping her mouth shut as she remembered the semi-inane, hangover-induced Lake House vs. Space Trucker argument Jess had recounted soon after they broke up. And something about a meat bucket.

And just then, right on cue, Jess’ phone sounded an indicator – a new voice message. She pulled her phone out of her purse and looked at it in puzzlement. 

“That’s weird. My phone says I have a voice message from Sadie, but I never heard the phone ring.” She held the phone to her ear as she listened to the recorded message, holding up a finger and looking at Cece as they continued their walk, mouthing, “One sec”. 

Cece couldn’t see it happen in the dim light of the evening, but Jess’ face turned a paler shade of ivory, then blushed deeply with the pounding of her heart as she heard Sadie’s message:

 

_“Hey, Jess, it’s me. Listen – I can’t seem to get in touch with Nick to tell him myself, but can you please thank him for the water table and all the attachments? Really random – it was on our Amazon wish list from Jacob’s last birthday, and we kind of forgot about it, so this was such a nice surprise. And the best part? Well, also the weirdest part, because who actually does this? He assembled it for us before he dropped it off. So thank him for that too. So sweet! And call me – let’s make a wine date soon! Love you!”_

 

Jess put her phone back in her purse, noticing her hands were shaking as she looked at Cece, whose eyes had narrowed with curiosity. 

“That was so weird…” Jess began. And then, thinking better of explaining it, she restarted the voice message and handed over her phone. Cece held it to her ear and tried to look perplexed as she listened. 

“Well, I’d say you have some pretty conclusive evidence that Nick is experiencing his own personal evolution as far as you two are concerned, wouldn’t you?” 

Jess nodded dumbly, staring straight ahead as they walked. Her heart was still pounding. “Talk about jogging the memory.”

“So? What are you gonna do?” Cece asked, handing Jess back her phone. Then she looked away, and let her lips purse in a small frown as she tried to look distracted and distraught. 

Jess zipped her bag and thought for a minute. “What _can_ I do?” she asked. “Except trust him. And hope he shows up tomorrow. Right? But more importantly, tell me what’s going on. Are you okay?” 

Cece knew it was now or never. She had to go for it. 

“No, Jess. I’m really not okay. I’ve been reading this book about this woman who climbs a mountain and comes to a clearer understanding of herself and who she is and what she wants, and I’ve been thinking maybe I need to do something like that. I definitely need to move on from Schmidt. I feel helpless and hopeless watching him with Fawn, and I just need to move on.” Cece took a deep breath. Getting it out in the open felt good, but was surprisingly harder than she’d thought. Helping Nick with his big scheme had distracted her from how hard this had been. 

Jess turned and stopped Cece in her tracks, putting her hands on both of Cece’s shoulders. Then she pulled her into a hug. “Oh, Ceec! I’m so sorry. I knew it was simmering below the surface, but I had no idea how painful this has been. And I have barely seen Schmidt all week – or Fawn for that matter. But you know I think they’re doomed, right?” 

Cece returned the hug, and then pulled back. “I know you think that, but I’m not so sure. I just need to get away from it. I need some perspective.” 

“And you want to climb a mountain?” Jess asked, wrinkling her nose a bit.

“Well, actually”, Cece began. “My agent…uh… gave me something.” She started feeling nervous, but she needed to stay focused. She pulled out the reservation confirmation papers Schmidt had given her the day before. Jess looked at them as Cece continued. “It was a… uh… a bonus for some work I did for a happy client. It’s a mostly-free trip to Mexico. Four nights in a fancy resort spa. Beachfront, cocktails, massages, dancing. It sounds amazing.” 

“Oh my god! That sounds incredible! Are you going to go to Mexico? Of course you’re going. When are you going? That’s so amazing!!” 

Cece smiled at Jess’ excitement. “Yes, I really want to go. The four nights start tomorrow.” 

“Oh. _Tomorrow?_ But I guess it’s good timing, right? It will definitely cure what ails you right?” Jess asked, her voice tinged with a slight tone of disappointment at the rapid departure. 

“I definitely think so. It seems perfectly timed, doesn’t it?” 

“Yeah, pretty perfect.”

“But there’s just one thing.” Cece stopped walking again, and Jess stopped too.

“What’s that?” 

“Well, I was thinking I should be on my own, like the woman in the book, you know? Figure things out for myself. But then this came up, and I realized it would probably be a lot more fun to go to Mexico for some perspective than to climb a mountain. They have perspective in Mexico, too, right?” 

Jess nodded, laughing, “Yes! Of course. Mexican perspective is really top quality stuff.” 

Cece laughed a little, but couldn’t shake her serious tone as she continued. “The thing is, the reservations are for a couple. They’re for two people. The room is a huge suite, and the massages are paid for already. Will you come with me? It’ll be fun!  A girls’ weekend. And you’re done with work, tomorrow, right?” They resumed their walk. 

Jess felt torn. There was so much momentum building with Nick. But Cece needed her. But she really didn’t want to leave right when everything felt like it was coming to a head. But her best friend was hurting – she had to help her! But Jess hadn’t been to Mexico since she and Nick escaped the loft and had ended up camping on the beach there. 

She had to be honest. 

“Wow, Cece. I don’t know how I can pass this up! Mexico! But at the same time I’ve been waiting all week for Nick to show up, and he _has_ shown up in many ways – actually in a lot of unexpected and really amazing ways. But not in the one way I’ve wanted him to show up. But he wants me to trust him, you know? And I said I did trust him, and I did! I mean, I do. And I feel like if I take off now, it won’t really seem like I trust him... And I dunno why, but our weird hot sexy shower feels like it was such a big deal—for us. You know? Like maybe a new beginning? But then again, Mexico _would_ bejust for a few days… But then where has Nick been? Argh! I don’t know what to do!” 

Cece looked down at the sidewalk, feeling frustrated she hadn’t rehearsed this better, hadn’t thought of how the plan might go awry, hadn’t prepared contingency comebacks. Cece knew Jess loved her and would do anything for her. But she underestimated the power Nick seemed to have over her, and it was obviously mutual. 

“It’s okay, babe. I understand. If you don’t want to come with me, I totally get that. You _have_ been waiting all week for Nick.” _Shit, shit, shit,_ Cece thought, trying not to panic. She didn’t want to let Nick down after everything he’d done to get them to this point. And at the same time, there was nothing fabricated about her being able to convalesce for a few days in Mexico, dammit! 

And in the meantime, Jess was truly tormented. How could she choose between supporting her best friend through a rough patch, and finally seeing her _other_ best friend after a week of _very_ frustrating separation? All she’d wanted all week long – probably even longer – was to pick up where she and Nick had left off. She really, _really_ wanted Nick, could feel it in her entire body – a deep, visceral longing that felt possessive and liberating at the same time. And now there were so many more layers of her desire for him. She wanted so badly to feel resolved in some way. She’d entertained the notion that maybe this was just physical, and they’d get it out of their systems and move on. 

But that couldn’t be how he felt, could it? Why wouldn’t he have just stayed in the shower with her last Saturday? They could have enjoyed each other’s bodies and then figured out the rest later, as she was expecting they’d do. Why had she opened her mouth and admitted she was scared? And why did he choose to remove himself from the entire scene instead of saying something reassuring to assuage her nerves? Why did he opt to inundate her from afar with sweet surprises that would conjure romantic feelings, and with tender memories from their past that seemed to translate into a promise for a potential future? 

Jess watched all of these thoughts swirling through her mind, which she willed to calm down as she took a deep breath. Then she angled her face to catch Cece’s eye, and quietly asked her, “Do I have to tell you right now?” 

“No. You don’t. I’m going to Mexico either way. But I would really, really love it if you came with me. It would mean a lot. We’d have so much fun, Jess! Just think about how awesome it would be. And maybe I’ll finally get over Schmidt. And maybe things will go back to normal with Nick by the time we get back.” 

Jess nodded. Cece was right – a girls’ weekend _would_ be awesome. With the rollercoaster of emotions she’d experienced over the last few days, maybe she could use her own dose of perspective. She definitely knew she didn’t want things to go back to _normal_ with Nick, whatever that even meant at this point. But regardless, Jess felt better having bought some time, and as the cab pulled up in front of Cece’s building just as they were walking in front of it, she resolved to make her decision first thing in the morning. 

Cece hugged Jess as she got into the cab, and closed her door. Jess waved through the window, and as she watched her friend grow tinier as they drove away, her whole body began to buzz with the notion that maybe, just maybe, she’d arrive home to find Nick waiting for her. She could practically feel his lips on hers, feel them all over her body, actually. As Cece disappeared from view, she realized she had most likely already made her decision. She sat back and closed her eyes, letting her mind wander back to the loft, just ahead of the cab, as it made its way through the streets of L.A.

xxxxxxxxxxx  

“So?” Nick had typed impatiently. He wondered if Cece and Jess were still together and that’s why Cece hadn’t responded. It had been forty-five seconds, already! This was it! The home stretch. He just needed her to give him the green light. Plan A was laid out, and he had been following it to a T. He also had a Plan B, just because everyone knows that any good plan A also has a Plan B – even though his Plan B was more of an appendix to the plan, really. And his Plan A _was_ good. It was damn good. So far, no part of Plan B had been necessary. Now, as he stared at his phone, fighting off the doubt and worry that was trying to overtake him, he was wondering if maybe it would be. 

He felt the buzz of his phone after a full minute had passed. _Finally_. 

“She says she’ll decide tomorrow morning. Nick, she wants to wait for you.” 

His heart lurched and his stomach lurched. This was bad. And also good. God, it was good. It was so good that he knew he’d have to execute this next element very carefully. He had to get her to want to go to Mexico, without reversing all he’d accomplished. So he couldn’t _White Fang_ her, as Schmidt had originally tried to suggest. Then she’d just be hurt and angry, and all of the carefully cultivated feelings she had for him would disappear, and this whole week would have been pointless. That was his worst fear, and he couldn’t let it happen. She had to retain these feelings – he _needed_ her to feel this way about him – and somehow he also had to encourage her to choose Mexico with Cece over staying in the loft to see him. He loved the problem and hated the problem. But it was just one obstacle, and he’d encountered worse. The fact that he had this particular problem at all actually gave him a much-needed boost of confidence. 

He picked up his phone and typed. 

“How long do we have?” 

Cece responded, “She’s in a cab. 20 minutes without traffic, 30 with.” 

He rubbed the scruff that had grown thick on his chin, and laughed out loud as he typed once more. 

Across the city, three cell phones buzzed simultaneously. 

“Plan B is in effect.”  

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mexico beckons.

  **Chapter 10**

 

Jess stretched as she stood outside in the blazing heat of the gas station parking lot. Cece was in the bathroom, and they were less than thirty minutes away from the resort. They’d been driving along the ocean roads for the past fifteen minutes, opting to take the scenic route, and were already beginning to feel its healing effects. Jess could feel her muscles unclenching, and tried to push thoughts of Nick out of her mind. Instead she wanted to focus on the next few days when she’d be able to regroup and relax, feel more grounded, and fully enjoy herself with her best friend. She had come to accept that everything with Nick would be on hold till she got back. She had _so many questions_. But they’d have to wait. For now.

As they climbed back into the car, Cece driving this time, Jess turned off the A/C and opened all the windows. Then she leaned back in the passenger seat, closing her eyes and letting the sea breeze wash over her as they drove unhurriedly southward. She hadn’t slept much the night before, and as she sunk into a pleasant catnap, the events of last night, which had resulted in her being here now, replayed in her mind.

 

xxxxxxxxxxx 

_Jess paid the cab driver, entering the building and heading upstairs. She walked into the loft and threw her keys down, glancing around—out of habit at this point—for any sign that Nick had returned. She still hadn’t adjusted to not finding him watching TV on the couch when she returned home, but once again, there were no signs of him._

_She walked to her room, but paused when she heard something around the corner. Walking back toward the kitchen, she could hear frantic rustling._

_“Schmidt?” she called out._

_The rustling stopped suddenly. There was a pause. Then the door opened and Schmidt popped his head out of his room, all jittery like a squirrel. His face looked weird, caught off guard._

_“Ohhhh hey Jess.” He dragged out._

_“What are you doing?” she asked._

_“Ohhhh, nothing.” He’d responded, then quickly pulled his head back in and shut the door._

_“SCHMIDT!” she yelled._

_His door opened again and he walked out. “Yes?” He said it quietly and tried to look casual, but he wouldn’t meet her eye._

_“Schmidt, what the hell are you doing?” she asked him. He was wearing a woolen poncho with a woven design. It looked South American, or maybe…_

_“Why are you wearing that?” she had asked, suddenly suspicious._

_“Wearing what?”_

_“That poncho. Is that from Mexico?” Jess scowled, starting to feel confused._

_“Oh this? No. No, it’s definitely not…from_ Mexico _.” He’d practically spat out the word. “My…uh… my Bubby made it for me. It’s… uh… it’s Yiddish.”_

_Her eyes narrowed. “Um, I’m pretty sure ‘Yiddish’ is not a style of woven woolen ponchos, Schmidt.” She said._

_He locked eyes with Jess and quickly removed the poncho, tossing it back into his room. He changed the subject. “So how was your night?” he asked, smoothing his hair._

_“It was okay. Cece and I had dinner.” She was going to tell Schmidt more, but realized suddenly she didn’t want to miss her chance. She’d barely seen any of her loft mates all week. “Hey, Schmidt – have you seen Nick lately?”_

_Schmidt just looked at her and shook his head, closing the door to his room with his foot. He wanted to conceal the half-packed suitcase on his bed lest she ask him any more questions. He felt extremely grateful when his phone chimed half a second later._

_“Excuse me, Jess – that’s probably Fawn. She probably wants to… uh… converse about the merits of our_ very _strong relationship.” He abruptly shut the door to his room._

_Jess stood in the kitchen, waiting for Schmidt to re-emerge, but gave up after a few minutes, and sat on the couch, turning on the TV and flipping around. Five minutes later, Winston surfaced from the hallway and walked into the living room. He was in his police uniform, but he looked sweaty and disheveled. His eyes darted over to her but he kept walking._

_“Heyyy, Jess... What is up, Jess?” he asked awkwardly._

_“Not much, Winston. How are you?” she asked, still looking at the TV._

_“Fine, fine.” He said, heading into the kitchen. He got himself a glass of water, and then moved towards the door. “Just getting a drink.” He grabbed his keys, and opened the door, still holding the water. He wiped beads of sweat from his forehead with his sleeve._

_“Where are you going?” she asked, her brow furrowed. He didn’t really look fit for public consumption, never mind going to work._

_“I’m… uh…” he paused and looked at his phone which had just buzzed again, then continued rather haltingly, speaking in spurts as he glanced between Jess and the screen. “I’m… going…. to… work…” he trailed off._

_Jess stared at him for a long time. She’d seen him leave for work this morning, also._

_“But I thought you went to work already, Winston,” Jess said. “We saw each other this morning. Remember?”_

_Winston just stood by the door, slowly his drinking water, and said nothing, but kind of nodded a little. Finally, he put down the glass and picked up his keys, opening the door. “Yeah, I have a double shift today. This one’s called The Night Shift.”_

_She blinked._

_“It’s all good, okay? Bye, Jess.”_

_Jess just stared at him._

_Winston watched her with a weird half-smile as he backed out of the loft and closed the door. But it was too much._

_She got up and walked quickly toward the door, yanking it open. Winston was still in the hallway, waiting for the elevator._

_Jess shouted into the hallway. “Hey, Winston, have you seen Nick?”_

Shit, _Winston thought. He’d thought he’d escaped._

_“Um, no, not… really. Have you?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck nervously._

_She was trying to determine if he was hiding something, but it was hard to tell. He was always kind of half in another dimension anyway._

_“No…I haven’t either. Bye, Winston.”_

_He stepped into the elevator, popping his head back out. She thought she noticed a flash of sympathy play across his face. “Take care, okay, Jess? I’m sure I’ll see you soon.”_

_Jess went back inside, wondering why everyone was being so weird. Or was it just her? It couldn’t just be her. She walked straight to her room, and sat on her bed, and scratched her head as she full registered that the door to Nick’s room was closed. She’d made note of it this morning, too, when she’d left for work, but hadn’t thought anything of it until now. The day before it had been left slightly ajar, and the narrow view she’d had as she’d passed it hadn’t seemed out of the ordinary._

_She laid down on her bed, letting her mind wander for a while longer, her arm thrown over her eyes. But as her mind began to pick up the pace, she felt increasingly compelled to investigate._

_Standing up, she opened her door and walked across the hall, pausing for a few moments outside Nick’s room. She thought her heart would beat itself out of her chest as she reached for the knob and flung the door open. When she saw what was inside, she gasped loudly, her hands clutching her chest._

_It was completely empty._

 

xxxxxx

Twenty minutes later, as they wound along the roadway, surrounded by dunes on one side and beaches on the other, Jess awoke, feeling refreshed. They were passing by an outcropping of rock that overlooked a beautiful beach and a turquoise bay just beyond. She reached for Cece’s shoulder. 

“Look, Cece! Look at that beautiful beach. Let’s stop over there and take some pictures!” 

Cece noted there were a few cars parked already, and smiled at her friend. The GPS said ten minutes remaining. They had made good time, and she didn’t want to arouse suspicion by appearing too eager to keep going, though she knew Nick would prefer they arrive as soon as possible. She pulled over, and Jess jumped out of the car, stretching into the sunshine, and pulling her hair back into a leisurely ponytail. She wore a sky-blue, strapless summer dress, and it fluttered around her legs as the breeze blew off the water and over her body. 

“This is so amazing, Cece. Thank you so much for making this happen.” 

 _If only she knew,_ Cece thought to herself. She smiled at Jess. “It has been my pleasure! I think this is going to be an incredible four days.” 

Jess wandered over to a spot with a railing, set atop a small cliff, about twenty-five feet up from the beach. As she leaned onto it, she gazed out at the shimmering waves and the few beachgoers below. She took in the vast expanse of the ocean, finding the horizon line to be particularly soothing, and thought about how confused she’d felt less than a full day prior, how seeing Nick’s empty room had felt like a sucker-punch to her gut. She couldn’t even fathom that he’d have moved out without her knowing, though she had been out of the loft more than usual that week. Still, that was crazy, wasn’t it? 

After staring at his empty, soulless room for a full five minutes, her mind whirring, she had wanted to call Nick, but knew she’d just get his voice mail again. He hadn’t been responding to her texts recently either. Instead, after she closed the door to the empty room, she had walked over to Schmidt’s room for some answers. She felt dizzy, and everything had felt so surreal. 

_“Schmidt? Are you in there? What is going on? Where the hell did Nick go?” She tried to keep her voice even, but wasn’t sure she even had it in her to yell or cry. Everything felt so dreamlike, especially now, as the intense silence emanating from Schmidt’s room began to register._

_“Schmidt?!” she yelled again. Still nothing. She knocked and waited. She steadied herself against the refrigerator._

_She couldn’t stand it anymore. She banged loudly on the door with the palm of her hand, and then turned the knob, pushing the door open slowly. She knew entering Schmidt’s room, uninvited, was a gamble._

_But he wasn’t inside. His room was tidy, nothing seeming to be out of place. She blinked into the quiet for a few moments and then walked out again, closing the door. She went and picked up her phone, fighting off the old, established pattern where first her heart began to sink, followed soon after by the feeling that Nick would never be able to get things right._

_She didn’t know what else to do, so she texted Schmidt._

_“Where did you go? And where is Nick?! Did he move out of the !@#$ loft?!”_

_Schmidt wrote back._

_“I went out. And Nick is majority bar-owner now! He got his own place. Don’t worry, it’s all good.”_

_She was stunned. Completely shocked. She stared at her phone, feeling no emotion whatsoever, yet her heart was racing and her eyes and throat stung with impending tears._

_“IT’S ALL GOOD?!” She type-yelled back._

_She flopped face down on the couch. She just needed to go to bed. Everything felt so unreal, so odd. This was insane. Her phone buzzed again. Schmidt._

_“Jess. Please. Everything is really good. You just need to trust Nick. Please, please trust him. Take care, okay, Jess? I’m sure I’ll see you soon.”_

_That was exactly what Winston had said. And at that moment, she gave up. She gave up all of it. She had no control over anything, and she realized that completely now. She stood up, feeling extreme fatigue wash over her entire body, and walked back into her room. Lying on her bed, she’d sent one last text._

_For the first time since she’d felt all of her latent attraction to Nick rise to the surface just five days ago, she began to revert to feeling disappointed in Nick, to feeling like he was always going to screw everything up. But what Schmidt was telling her indicated that he was doing anything but.  She felt perplexed and disoriented, and she expected to feel hurt and sad and disappointed in a matter of moments. She couldn’t quite comprehend why Nick hadn’t shared this great, life-changing news with her._

_But instead of feeling wounded by his absence, and by being the last to learn of his great news, she began to feel this odd sort of excitement for Nick. She felt inspired by his accomplishments. He was unpredictable, sure. Surprising, absolutely. But in her carefully organized life, she appreciated that about him, even found it thrilling. She felt herself admitting, deep in her core, that Nick was one of the best people she knew._

_With these thoughts, she began to feel calmer, her breath becoming more even as she realized that she really did trust Nick. It really_ was _all good. And then she thought of another of her favorite people, and she remembered that Cece wasn’t doing nearly as well as Nick seemed to be doing._

_And that last thought did it for her. By now it was nearing midnight, and she still had her last work day to contend with. But she knew what she wanted to do, without a doubt._

_She texted Cece, “Hey, Cece! I’m coming with you to Mexico and I CAN’T WAIT!”_

_In response she received a series of happy emoticons. Feeling content, she started to pack. They’d leave tomorrow at 3pm, right after her work day at school was complete._

 

xxxxxxxxxxxx 

“Hey Jess! Let’s go! We’re so close!”

Jess snapped herself out of her reverie, and smiled into the sunshine. They posed for a few selfies, arms around each other, smiles wider than the sky, before they buckled back into the car, pulling onto the road for the final few minutes of their journey. They’d just been on the road for a few hours, but already her work, the school year, all of it, seemed like eons away.

 

xxxxxxxxxxxx 

Schmidt sat with his arms straight, leaning back on his hands, legs stretched in front of him on the large beach towel. Although it was uncharacteristic for him to sit on anything but a well-appointed beach chair while at the beach, today he felt bold. _Sand in bodily crevices, be damned!_ He’d thought as he’d settled onto the plush, oversized towel spread out atop the silken white sand. He sighed as he reached to his left and picked up his resort-issued thermos, somehow managing to feel rustic and manly as he took a long, luxurious sip of the frozen piña colada he’d ordered back at the cabana. 

As he set it back down, he looked behind himself and off to the left, at the rows of chairs that ran parallel to the ocean, the entire scene dappled with sunny umbrellas. Festive straws and skewered fruit sat lazily below, resting in each of the cocktails that adorned their chair-arm cup holders. Beyond the chairs lay a beautiful sprawling resort, a Spanish-revival-style estate. 

Schmidt had been beyond skeptical about the accommodations they would be “enduring”, as he’d called it, lecturing Nick on the types of resorts he _should_ have selected for such an important venture. He’d been irritated at Nick for his lack of response, as Nick simply drove through the night, a half-smile on his face, allowing Schmidt to prattle on. Nick had barely acknowledged the various rants. When they’d pulled into the parking lot in the middle of the night, Schmidt immediately had had to backtrack, and Nick didn’t even try not to look smug. 

Though the style was Spanish-revival, the entire resort had just undergone a complete renovation. The décor had an antique feel throughout, but all of the systems were state of the art, and the entire property had been awarded numerous honors for its innovation in both design and sustainability. Nick had done his research. This place was lux, worlds above the resort he and Jess had happened upon during their first visit to Mexico. 

Schmidt was impressed, and had told him as much. He’d really had to hand it to Nick. Schmidt hadn’t known what to expect at all, and this place was phenomenal – everything from the landscaping to the lighting – all of it was perfect. Their rooms were beautiful, elegant and sultry, designed to pamper each of their guests at every turn, and to make it nearly impossible to do anything but completely unwind. Even a partial night in his room had rendered Schmidt a gooey, relaxed version of himself. 

As he looked back at the other guests, he felt slightly itchy at not being part of the crowd. He’d intentionally left the resort’s more populated areas in order to enjoy the un-crowded beach, but he hadn’t wanted to go _too_ far afield, for fear of infringing upon the scene off to his right. He smiled in that direction as he watched Winston and KC splashing each other in the crystal blue water. The waves were gentle, and the sounds of their giggles carried over to him, reminding him of things that ran the spectrum between steamy summer days as a kid in New York, and sensual, late nights in bed with Cece. Both recollections seemed like distant dreams, hovering in those blurry spaces of his memory. One of them, however, had been revisited a lot recently, and its focus was definitely sharpening with each passing moment. 

Schmidt knew Jess and Cece were close – he’d gotten the latest update from Nick before heading to the beach, and he’d cheered Nick on, earnestly encouraging him and showering him with unsolicited, well-meaning, but slightly icky advice. It wouldn’t be long now. He closed his eyes and appreciated this brief period of being alone, something he rarely sought out or usually even enjoyed very much. It seemed fitting though, this momentarily solitude. Soon, he knew, so much would change.

 

xxxxxxxxxx 

Golden rays of the day’s last sunlight streamed through the palm trees as they pulled up to the resort’s entrance. Before Jess and Cece had even released their seatbelts, their doors were opened, their hands held in gentle guidance as they were ushered out of the car. In some scenarios, this might feel rushed and stressful. But the quiet flurry felt cheerful and nurturing, even slightly romantic, and it set the tone for their whole experience as they entered the resort’s gorgeous lobby and lounge area.

As Jess stared up at the ornate medallion in the center of the lobby’s ceiling, jaw slightly agape, Cece rushed off to the concierge desk. Jess was too taken with the beautiful space to notice the way Cece was whispering quietly to the manager, or the way directions were given to the porters to take their suitcases to their two respective rooms. Cece had rehearsed this part several times, so it all felt natural as they entered the elevator and headed up to the top floor, Cece asking Jess to use her key since she ‘had to check something in her purse or something’. 

When they reached their floor, they walked in briefly, and Jess looked at Cece, holding out her key. 

“The Penthouse?” she asked. “My god, Cece. What exactly did you do for this ‘happy client’?” 

She giggled at her own suggestive tone, which Cece, whose heart was pounding, completely ignored. Jess was too giddy to notice, though, as she tapped the card against the sensor, watching as the small round console turn green before she pushed on the handle and entered the room. She let out a long, slow breath as she walked inside.

 

xxxxxxxxxxx

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deep breaths, here we go!

Chapter 11

 

Jess stands motionless, taking it all in. Cece is impressed with the suite too—it would have been impossible not to be—but she is far more interested in how Jess is reacting. She wishes she could document this part – but that’s not really something she can get away with.

The space is glorious – high, vaulted ceilings with detailed molding, enormous windows and skylights that catch the late-afternoon sun. Everything throughout is set in warm greys and cheerful blues, with yellow, red and orange accents. The whole suite is magnificent and spotless and smells like heaven. 

But as Jess stands in the entryway, gazing around at the thoughtful layout and elegant furniture, she notices the view and it trumps everything else. She hurries across the room, past the stylish love seat in the living area, and straight to the balcony. Pushing aside the shimmering white curtains, she throws open the French doors, kicking off her shoes and standing against the railing. She is in complete and total awe as she inhales the sea air and feels the warm breeze travel over her body. 

The ocean is a cerulean blue, darkening now with the impending dusk, a long, pale-orange V traveling wide from the shoreline and narrowing as it stretches to meet its source at the horizon. The sun is beginning to set, hovering like a glowing ball caught in mid-air, its lustrous light casting everything in an ethereal orange-pink. She feels the sun’s warmth seeping into the molecules of her being, feels herself beginning to relax bit by bit. 

Suddenly, the high-pitched and slightly frantic sound of Cece’s voice coming from inside brings her irritatingly back to the moment. 

“Hey, Jess, oh my god, look at this great champagne! This is so awesome!” 

“Oh, nice!” Jess responds. 

“—But hang on, it’s definitely going to need ice.” Cece continues rapidly. “I’ll go get some. And oh shoot, babe. I forgot something in the car.” She rummages dramatically around in her purse. “I’ve got to go back down there – I’ll be back, with some ice, too, did I say that? Oh, and here, take this.” – She hastily pulls out a square envelope and tosses it on the table next to the champagne bottle—“I don’t know what it is – the concierge gave it to me. Be back in a few!” 

Before Jess can respond, Cece retreats, slamming the door behind her. 

Jess stands in place for a minute, her back to the setting sun. She’s still recovering from Cece’s sudden outburst. It was so jarring. She walks over to the dining table. The sooner she can address whatever Cece was talking about, the sooner she’ll be able to re-enter the blissful mental state she found so easily staring out to sea.

She dutifully inspects the bottle, noting that the “champagne” is actually prosecco. She feels happy about that—prosecco is way better, anyway. 

And then she notices the vase with two lavish red roses next to the empty ice bucket. And there is the square envelope that Cece just tossed against it. Inside the envelope is a DVD. Affixed to it is a printer label, which states, in all typed caps, 

“WELCOME! PLEASE WATCH AT YOUR EARLIEST CONVENIENCE”. 

 _Oh,_ Jess thinks. It’s from the concierge - maybe it’s just the resort’s orientation DVD? Is that even a thing? Jess decides not to be that surprised, really. This place seems like maybe it’d pull something like that, what with all of their energy-efficiency measures and naturally heated pools and fair trade organic local-produce-serving five-star restaurants and whatnot. 

She walks slowly back to the seating area, holding the DVD, and pauses to look at the bright, minimalist kitchen, which is elevated slightly by two long steps. To her left is the bedroom area, also elevated, and situated in a bright and airy corner space. Surrounded by windows, it boasts a breathtaking panoramic view of the beach, the ocean, and the sky. In the distance on either side, long piers that protect the bay are dotted with fairy tale fishing boats. Jess can’t wait to spend some time pondering that spectacular view. 

But first things first—she figures she’d better get the boring stuff out of the way and get herself nice and oriented.

 

xxxxxxx 

Cece pauses in the stairwell to catch her breath. She’s descended – rather rapidly—three flights of stairs, and feels she can probably safely re-enter one of these hallways now. She walks through the stairwell door and feels relieved and happy she was able to pull this off. All systems are GO, and Nick is on his own now. They really did it. All Cece has to do now is find the room she knows Nick has reserved for her. Let’s see, let’s see. Which floor is it on? 

She stands in the bright hallway scrolling through her phone, trying to find the email Nick had sent. Right. Third floor, ocean view – _Nice, Nick!_ She thinks. She walks to the elevator and presses the floor number on the keypad, enjoying the rapid service as she steps inside and the doors close. She really hopes her bag is already waiting for her. She’s been fantasizing about a bubble bath and relaxing with a glass of wine since Nick first shared his whole crazy plan with her, and the thought consumes her as she walks past a few other doorways, pulling out her key card before she lands just outside the room she knows is waiting for her. 

 

Xxxxxxx

Jess sits on the loveseat, slightly resentful and a little bored at the idea of a hotel orientation. But this _is_ the penthouse, and maybe this is penthouse protocol? And when in Rome, you know? 

After a few seconds, the video comes on, and the slight scowl that had settled onto Jess’ face transforms into wide, incredulous eyes. 

In front of her, on that huge wall-mounted panel TV, is Nick. 

There he is, larger than life, sitting on the couch in the loft, and her first thought is, _it’s Thursday! He made it!_ His beard is grown out a little, and Jess thinks it makes him look thoughtful, and okay, yeah, the damn beard is _very_ sexy. She’s struck by how immediately happy she feels to see him, even after the past five days, and even if just virtually. 

But she’s also kind of annoyed, because like, what the hell? How’d _Nick_ follow her to _Mexico_? He looks tired but determined, and he stares into the camera for a few seconds and Jess forgets all of her questions as he begins to speak. 

 

“ _Alright, Nick. I’m just gonna go ahead and call you an idiot right off the bat._

 _If you’re watching this, it’s because you finally pulled your head out of your ass, and you understand a key piece of information, which is this: You screwed up!_

_You really screwed up, okay? You found someone—and not just any ‘someone’—but you found_ Jess _, who is a beautiful and kind, and intelligent and funny, and_ unbelievably sexy _woman, and maybe we’ll never know the reasons why, but she_ loved _you!_

 _She_ fucking _loved you._

 _That alone is a miracle, but on top of that – on_ freaking top _of that, she managed to make you feel_ …magical, _and just shut the hell up for a minute here –“_  

He pauses, and looks intensely at the camera.

 _“—just shut up, because I’m not talking about magical like a goddamn unicorn, okay?_  

 _“She – Jess… Jess made you feel like you were… like you_ are _worth everything good you ever wished would happen to you, like all that potential you squandered over the years, and all that time you wasted, and everything you ever wanted to achieve – it was like, here she was, handing it right back to you, like she was giving all these damn things right back to you, like they were never lost and like they belong to you, and like you_ actually, fucking _deserve them, man..._

 _Fuck…”_

He starts to lose it, doubling over and sobbing tears into his lap, his hands covering his face. Jess watches helplessly and hugs herself tighter. Her heart is aching. 

After a minute, Nick looks up again, clears his throat and wipes his nose. 

 _“These three weeks, man. These three weeks since you lost her like a damn buffoon – you know they’ve been the worst three weeks of your entire goddam life, and it’s not like your life has exactly been a picnic._

_And you ought to know this, too, Future Nick: Know that whatever you do, whoever else you might encounter – none of that, not_ one _of those people is ever going to make you stop loving her. Can you get that through your thick skull, Miller? You will always be in love with Jess.”_

He looks down briefly, and it’s almost inaudible, but she can hear him mutter, “ _God, it feels good to say that out loud.”_

He looks up and continues.

 _“So I’m telling you this – Just three damn words, okay? Three words. And I don’t care how long it takes, if it takes you the rest of your damn life:_

_Get. Her. Back._

_Did you hear me, you asshat? Get her back._

_Jessica Day is the best person you’ve ever known, and you’re going to get her back, and this time you’re going to be that person – that damn magical person, and you know what I’m talking about._

_That guy you always thought you would grow up to be, back when you were just a stupid little kid? Turns out he exists. That guy you’ve always wanted to be—_ that guy _is the person you were_ meant _to be._

 _It’s because of Jess that_ that _Nick can even_ exist _. But he_ does _exist, and that’s my point here, ya damn hack._

 _The Best Nick Ever comes alive because of Jessica Day. She’s your future, because being_ that guy _is your future, and you can’t fucking do it without her, and you know you don’t even want to.”_

He closes his eyes and inhales loudly, exhales slowly. 

_“You have to fix this, because Jess is worth everything, and if you’ve learned nothing else from her, at least make it so you deserve to be with her. Be that person, and just get her back, man, okay? Just get her the hell back.”_

She watches as Nick wipes the palms of his hands roughly across his eyes, abruptly stands up and walks to the camera. And then the screen goes black.

  

For a moment the room is completely still, until it feels like maybe it is vibrating so rapidly that the buzzing is almost imperceptible. Jess hasn’t moved, is still seated on the edge of the loveseat, and her heart is pounding and her mind is filled with Nick’s voice, with everything he’s just revealed. 

And then there’s a shift. 

She turns her head slightly, and he’s there, just standing there at the edge of the bedroom, elevated slightly above her on those two long steps, silhouetted by the golden glow of the evening sky. 

And he is wearing nothing. Nothing but those same damn black silk boxers, only this time he’s already a step ahead of how this all happened before. 

His eyes are burning into hers before he glances down at the bulge in his boxers and chuckles, looking up at her again. He smiles nervously. 

“So… I, um… I guess you know how I feel now, huh, Jess?” 

She doesn’t say anything, just steadily rises from the couch, lowering her arms to her sides, her eyes never leaving his. Her fingers twitch with the intense need to touch him, and she’s never felt anything so magnetic as her legs walk her body closer to him, the distance disappearing rapidly like she has no control over this, like she has no desire to control it. All her body wants is to defeat the space between them as quickly as possible. 

She climbs the steps and she sees he’s backing away slightly, holding out his hands as she advances, placing them carefully on her bare shoulders. His palms on her skin are warm and are meant to stop her, but instead they send an electric current through her chest and it swirls down through her center and shoots through her legs and into each of her toes.

She guesses he’s feeling it too when he closes his eyes, and for a moment she can’t register his voice, and then she does. 

“Wait, Jess. Please. Wait.” 

And she hears him, but now she can’t believe those are his words, and now she can’t even _form_ words, breathes heavily instead, and her eyes flash up at him, hurt etched on her face. 

He sees the hurt and starts to panic. 

“God, Jess, God, please, I have never, _ever_ wanted anything more than I want you right now. It’s all I’ve wanted since—“ 

 

“—Shut up, Nick.” She cuts him off. 

 

“Jess—“ 

 

“I said, _shut up_. I know what you’re doing – I know what you’ve _been_ doing. In addition to torturing me, I mean.”

 

He doesn’t speak as she reaches up and pulls his palms from her shoulders, putting her hands on his chest and pushing him rapidly backwards. 

He’s caught off guard by her anger and by the force with which she’s pushing him, and he stumbles a little—he hadn’t prepared for this. This isn’t part of his plan, and he’s too surprised to stop her or even register what is happening, and when the backs of his legs hit the bed, she doesn’t stop, pushing him until he’s lying on his back and she climbs on top of him, straddling him while she holds his wrists above his head, his legs hanging over the edge. She’s flooded with adrenaline at the rush of control she feels, surprised at what she’s feeling right now, at how much of it she’d pushed aside to protect herself since the last time she saw him. 

This isn’t how she wanted to feel when she saw Nick – and _so many feelings_ are swirling around, and she’s about to lay into him, wants to scream at him, but instead she falters when she feels him relax his body under hers and she’s surprised when he raises his hips to press into her and _good lord_ it’s _so_ _everything_ she wants right now but _fuck you, Miller_ , now he’s rotating against her and up into her through their layers and her dress is hiked up now, gathered up around her thighs and _god_ that feels _so_ good, the way he’s moving under her like that, and it forces her eyes closed and she hears a moan escape from her own throat and when she looks at him again, he smiles at her and there is _so much_ going on in his eyes, and she starts melting, feels desperate to blend into him, but there’s no way. There’s _no fucking way._

She leans forward and presses his wrists hard into the bed, leans her body over him, her chest grazing his. And then she kind of destroys him a little when she spreads her legs wider, inviting him for even more contact and he’s going for it, god, he wants it, but not before she disengages, squeezing his hips between her thighs and forcing an unwelcome space between them. 

He groans, missing the contact, his dick throbbing so hard, but she lifts her hips as he tries to connect again and _god_ he just wants to so badly, but he _just can’t get there_ , and now she climbs off him altogether, brings her face next to his, leans into his ear and in a jagged whisper, repeats herself. 

 

_“I know what you’ve been doing, Miller.”_

 

He lowers his pelvis and relaxes again, his lips swollen and pouting, defeated. He looks even more wistful as she climbs off the bed and turns, walking away from him and she disappears back down the steps. He just lies there for a few seconds, his erection straining into the air like an abandoned lighthouse. He sits up and grabs it to relieve some pressure as he follows her, not sure what is happening.

 

“Jess. What are you—“

 

He stops once again at the top of the stairs and stares at her. She’s back on the couch. She casually looks up.

 

“It’s my turn, Miller. You want to start over? You want to fix this and make everything perfect? Let’s start over.”

 

Her voice shows no humor and he just nods, hoping he’s understanding her correctly.

 

He turns and walks away briefly, before he re-enters the room, stands in his place. She looks up at him, meets his eyes, and neither of them blink.

 

“Hey Nick.” She says.

 

“Hi Jess.”

 

Slowly, slowly he moves his hand away from his pelvis to reveal his boner, pulsing like a divining rod, and now her eyes leave his as she brings them down, lingering on his chest and following the trail of hair on his stomach until they land right _there_.  

He breathes in as he allows her to look, watching her and waiting for this to unfold, and he’s loving what she’s doing to him, loving that she _knows_ what she’s doing to him, that she understands what he wanted all along, that she’s reenacting the pain of that desire as the tension builds and she’s almost there, and _oh god,_ he holds his breath as he watches her tongue glide over her lips, and it’s so, so much better this time. 

His breath is shallow as she stands up and her eyes are fixed on his crotch as she walks over to him, her hips swaying seductively until she’s standing in front of him. 

She smiles at him and leans in to place a humid, sultry kiss on the skin of his stomach and she starts to hook her thumbs into the elastic of his boxers. And then she pauses, a furrow crossing her brow, and she lets go, shakes her head, turning and walking back to the loveseat.

 

“No, no. That’s not it. It’s not quite right. Places, Miller. Take three.” She sits back down.

 

He is dumbfounded, hasn’t moved, and his penis is really confused now.

 

“…Jess?” he ventures.

 

“I said _start over_ , Nick.” She snaps back. “It wasn’t _perfect._ ”

 

She looks away, her jaw set in defiance, and then she looks back at him with a neutral expression, as if seeing him for the first time. She clears her throat.

 

“Hey, Nick.”

 

“Uh… Hi Jess—”

 

“—What the _hell_ , Nick?” She snaps. “What the hell are you doing here?”

 

 _Uh-oh._ The thought that she’d be upset with him _did_ cross his mind, of course. But he hadn’t thought to map out a plan for this, and certainly not one that accounted for his being almost-naked and sporting a raging boner. He closes his eyes and tries to summons strength from the original _Plan._ She’s here, with him now – he’s gotten this far. He can’t let things unfold this way. 

But before he can respond, she’s up again, walking past him up the steps and into the bedroom. He manages to gather himself and follow her, and she’s on the bed, curled away with her back to him, and she’s gazing out the window. Her voice is quiet and shaky.

 

“How do you like that, Nick? How do you like it when you’re about to reconnect with someone—in a _really amazing way,_ and then they just _disappear_? Feels great, right? I’m taking a nap, Miller. See you later, maybe.”

 

He turns back to her, his voice cracking in disbelief. “You’re… you’re what?”

 

He’s just standing by the bed now, his whole body on fire, and she doesn’t answer, hugs her arms around herself as she stews on the bed, and he tries not to but he can’t help feeling aroused at the expanse of her thighs where her dress doesn’t hide them, and _god_ he just wants to touch her, all he wants is to put his hands on her, run his lips over every inch of her body...

 

But he’s worried he’ll make things worse if he tries to touch her, doesn’t know what to do.

 

He can barely speak, but manages her name, “Jess…?”

 

She turns, rolls onto her back, and leans up on her elbows.

 

“God, Nick. I mean, where the hell do you get off?”

 

“Jess, please. I don’t understand. I… I thought – “

 

“What, Nick. What did you _think_? You thought you could _fix_ us? Like _that_? By disappearing and then sneaking around trying to make me remember why we… why we _belong_ together? And if that’s really what you think, then why were you _gone?_ Why did you have to do that, Nick? After we… after the _shower?”_

Her voice drips with hurt and she gets up and walks to stand by the wall of windows, wanting to calm down. The horizon is a dazzling rainbow. She is so conflicted, she missed him and she’s glad to see him, and she feels so angry, and she’s also so, so turned on, and completely astounded by what this proximity to Nick is doing to her.

 

At that moment, she starts to understand that resistance is futile.

 

But Nick can’t know that.

 

Not yet.

 

She turns to face him, gasps in surprise as he’s already closed the space and there are only a few inches between them. She tries to continue.

 

“Just tell me what you’re doing here, Nick. And make it fast because Cece’s coming back and…“

 

She trails off, unable to utter another word as puts his hand on the curve of her waist and looks so deeply into her eyes.

 

“..And what, Jess?”

 

He lifts his other hand to her face and inches closer, kissing her tentatively, and trying not to falter as he feels her stiffen under his touch. They’re like the wrong side of the magnets right now and he knows she wants to push him away, to make him wait, to torment him so he’ll understand how she felt – how she _still_ feels, and all he wants is to show her how much he understands already.

Jess hasn’t said anything, and he feels emboldened that she hasn’t stopped him yet as he moves to kiss her again, this time starting on her cheekbone as he plants kisses, one after the other, down to her jaw, reaches her ear and lets a sigh escape his lips right under her ear lobe, sending shivers down the curve of her shoulder and all the way down her arm as he presses his face into her neck.

 

“I don’t know if you’ll ever know how much I have ached for you, Jess. I don’t know if you’ll ever understand it. And, um… Cece’s not coming back any time soon. I…um. I’m here because… well, because of this whole week… I—I wanted to try and fix my missteps… With you. With us.”

 

She’s fighting so hard not to give in, stiffens a little more in his arms, and pulls back.

 

“Wait… what? We’re here because—“

 

“Yeah.” He breathes out. “I made this happen, Jess. I planned all of this, everything at home, and this whole trip to Mexico, and it wasn’t easy. Cece helped me. And so did a bunch of other people...”

 

She’s looking at him in disbelief, thinks about Sadie, about Schmidt and Winston being so weird—and _Cece too?_ And her mind is spinning as he continues, his hands caressing her shoulders, and it’s distracting, but she’s trying to understand, trying to listen as he continues.

 

“… And after you looked at my… um… after we had our… our _shower—_ which, let me just say—it was like some heaven-sent gift I could only have dreamed would ever happen— but I could hear your panic, Jess, and I could feel mine too, and I didn’t want to just… just _take you_ like that, and get wrapped up in what it all meant that we’d… you know. I couldn’t handle wondering if maybe you’d think it was a mistake, or the possibility that you’d regret it later.”

 

He pauses, and looks into her eyes, his fingers stroking her back, absently playing with her hair as he continues.

 

“I’m sorry you’re upset, and that’s the last thing I wanted—I was just… I just needed you to know how I feel – how I’ve felt this entire time, and it’s terrifying, Jess. God, this has been one hell of a terrifying journey, because getting hurt again is, like, it wasn’t—it _isn’t_ anything I’m very interested in, and so I—I just wanted it to be, like crystal clear, like, _so_ completely obvious to you that when we finally… _if_ we ever ended up… you know…”

 

He pauses and takes a deep breath, looks past her at the gorgeous sky.

 

“…If we ever _made love…_ again, I just didn’t want any part of you to wonder how I felt about it – about you. And it was a crazy week, Jess – for me too, for so many reasons. And I made this plan—to do all these things for you – and you’re right. I can’t fix everything, but I ran out—away from you—in the shower, and I felt like I had this one shot to do things right before we just dove in to everything, and I made this plan and I committed to it, and I couldn’t let myself diverge from it, and I knew it was a gamble – and… I know this whole thing sounds so crazy, but I just...”

 

He looks at her, his eyes pleading. “…I was so worried you might give up on me, Jess, and I don’t want to screw up with you—ever again, Jess, please. Please don’t be upset.”  

 

His words cut through her and her pulse is raging, but she doesn’t say anything, just looks up at him. She still has so many questions.

 

But she doesn’t need any more answers right now.

Instead, she wants only to show him what all of this has meant to _her._ And despite feeling like she was robbed before, of the chance to show him how _she_ feels, that she really _does_ trust him, she sees the opportunity is here, and now’s her chance. 

She reaches up and puts her hands on his shoulders, standing on her toes and pressing her lips against his, waiting for him to respond. And when he moves against her and groans against her mouth, she deepens the kiss and lets her tongue slide against his before she pulls him tightly against her, her arms wrapping around his neck as his whole body attempts to find as many ways to connect to hers as possible. 

She pulls away for a minute, looking into his eyes, and then she takes his hands and pulls him behind her to the massive bed. He catches up when she stops at the edge and wastes no time grabbing her hips and pressing into her from behind, one hand holding her thigh so he can feel her firmly against his pelvis, and the other reaching around to her breasts, gentle and urgent as he explores her body, this gorgeous body he’s been dreaming of, that has haunted him for so long, and his lips and breath quicken on her shoulders, making the delicate little hairs stand on end. 

Only now he needs _so much more_ of her skin against his skin, and he finds the tiny zipper, stepping back to unzip her dress, his fingers and thumb trailing each new inch of ivory as its revealed, and he slips both hands under her dress and glides them around to her ribcage before the dress is even all the way off, one hand massaging her breasts, squeezing each of her nipples as his other hand moves down her stomach, roaming down between the soft skin of her thighs, one finger slipping between her folds, only separated by the thin silk of her panties. 

He is in awe that this is finally happening, of how much he wants her, and his renewed hardness is pressing, so desperate, into her ass, as she leans her head back onto his shoulder, and he’s rubbing her faster, her panties completely soaking through. His lips entice wave after wave of delicate shivers along the sensitive skin of her neck and behind her ears, and _god, Nick,_ she cries out as his hips and hands find a rhythm like this, until he stops when she’s just at the edge and she’s still thrumming with so much built-up tension, and his fingers are glistening as he pulls his hand away. 

Her body is screaming for him as she stills for a moment, her back pressed against his chest, her dress gathered on the floor at her feet, and she turns around in his arms, pressing her breasts against the warm skin of his chest, and he shudders with all of the contact. She finds his eyes, sees everything she’s ever wanted to see in them, and she finds his lips with her mouth once more, hovering so close, so their breath is the same breath, and so he can feel the charge in her body that is there just for him before she leans deeper and whispers into his ear.

 

“I want you to tell me how much you’ve wanted me, Nick.”

 

Her words make his breath catch because… _how?_ How can he possibly make her understand that? But she wants it so he has to try, at least.

 

“God, Jess, I’ve…”

 

“—I want you to tell me why you made me wait so long for this, Nick… for us to be like this again. If I had known you felt like that… God, Nick… Why did you have to make me wait?”

 

He feels a lump in his throat as he sees her eyes glistening, but he’s relieved when she kisses his jaw and grazes her lips against the rough stubble on his cheeks, her breath uneven as she alternates between kissing his lips and kissing his neck until her kisses become more fierce when they land on his mouth and their teeth clash and he’s trying to tell her, trying to let her know how he feels, but she won’t let him speak, and she’s so turned on, so aroused as his hands slide everywhere over her body like he can’t get enough of her, holding her ass and he stoops low to run his hands down her calves and he squeezes them as he presses his face against her thighs and he kisses and sucks the soft, tight skin on her ilium, rising again slowly to trail his lips and tongue up her body and around her belly button, his lips closing over her nipples as he stands, and it’s making her crazy that they’re still wearing clothing at all. 

She pulls him backwards as he kisses her again, and moves up the bed and lies on her back and he pauses before following, hovering above her, his eyes glistening with emotion and so much desire. Slowly he lifts one knee and slides it between hers until he’s kneeling on the bed between her legs, his wide palms running up her legs, and his thumbs are trailing lines of ecstatic lightning up the insides of her thighs as his fingers sneak around to her hips, slowly lowering her panties until they’re all gone and he tosses them aside. She sits up and reaches for his boxers, and he smiles as he helps her out, taking those off too and they both pause before he leans down and kisses her stomach again, letting his tongue and lips battle for contact as they make their way up between her breasts, and he’s still kneeling with all this space between them, and all she wants is to feel all of him against her. 

She leans up on her elbows as his face lingers between her breasts, and he looks up at her between kisses, seeing in her eyes that she wants him _now,_ that she just wants to feel him, _finally,_ and he slides his knees backwards as his throbbing erection lands against her center, his arms wrapping around her body as she holds herself up, and as he starts to move against her, she cries out and lies back, arching her spine over his arms and it gives him even more access to her neck and her breasts, and he lifts himself up a bit, reaches up in the pillows somewhere and then back down between them, installs the condom while still holding her with his other arm, his palm splayed against her back as she lifts her head and he looks into her eyes as he positions himself right there, right at her hot center, and he groans with how wet she is. 

He’s holding her against him as he slides into her, and she whimpers against his shoulder like she’s dying in the best way possible. She can see his ass moving in slow circles, can feel the way the pressure ebbs and flows as his ass cheeks tighten and release, and he’s so gentle at first until he’s not anymore and it gets desperate as each thrust brings her closer to the edge and she’s basically going to come already, she’s biting her lip and he can feel her tightening around him, _god_ its so soon, and _fuck_ , he doesn’t want this to be over, but he can’t help what she does to him, and he’s pushing into her as one half of this writhing beast and she’s rocking against him, and it’s so, _so_ fucking good. Her orgasm starts first, building like a tsunami that rips through her entire body and it sweeps him with her until they’re convulsing in another dimension as they lie wrapped in each other, still connected and rhythmically pulsing as the jolts continue and their breathing starts to even out, and he can feel her heart racing, and she’s shaking, and he looks at her face and sees her tears. 

For a moment he looks heartbroken and he holds his breath as he softly wipes her cheek with his thumb, but when she smiles and kisses him, long and slow, he’s so relieved, so thankful that he’s still inside her, moves gently to release another few waves of ecstasy, and laughs softly as she whimpers with that smile that is everything.

 

He can finally breathe again. And yeah, okay. He _is_ feeling a little bit like a unicorn.

 

xxxxxxxxx

 

 

 


End file.
